Double Life
by RabidSmurf
Summary: After a 6-month long absence, Team Voltron is only too happy to finally get their missing Red Paladin back. However, when Keith's return comes with some unexpected baggage, they find themselves confused and at a loss for answers. Trapped in downward spiral, Keith quickly realizes his new life comes with a heavy price he's not sure how to pay.
1. Home is Where the Heart Isn't

_The more things change, the more they stay the_ _same._

Whoever the heck said this definitely knew what they were talking about! The biggest changes were usually the subtlest. The subtlest changes could also be the biggest. It was this vicious, brainteaser cycle of change and sameness that had given Lance an impressive headache earlier that afternoon. Lance rubbed his forehead gingerly and tried to calm the cacophony of thoughts crowding his skull. Too many thoughts. Too many questions. Not enough rock-solid answers.

Keith was different. It hadn't taken very long to pin that fact down. When the Galran pod had touched down in the Castle Bay several dobashes earlier, they had taken a long, hard look at the new, fan-like ears and the subtle, lavender-tinged skin. It was Keith, but not the Keith that had left them months earlier. Shiro had welcomed the boy back with his trademark hug and easy, welcoming smile. Keith was still his Keith. The others offered similar welcomes, pointedly ignoring Keith's usual level of antisocial reluctance. The only awkwardness came from Hunk's request to touch Keith's new "kitty-bat" ears. Keith had visibly balked at the nickname and coldly denied the request. They all seemed too eager to get Keith back to dwell too long on the newest manifestations of Keith's secret heritage. Lance didn't blame them. Denial was always the easiest route.

Lance scowled quizzically at retreating glimpse of broad shoulders rat the other end of the hallway. Keith was no doubt headed to the training room (no surprise there!) He was still wearing the inky-black and purple Marmora suit. It clung to lean muscle and raw sinew hidden beneath. When had Keith gotten that buff? Had he always been that tall? No, definitely not! Lance had the keen memory of looking down at him ever so slightly the last time he and Keith had spoken face-to-face. 6 months ago Lance had definitely been taller than the scrawny Red Paladin. Not by much, but enough to use as ammunition in more than one of their endearing "lover's quarrels" as Pidge had so sassily nicknamed them.

"Lance, what sounds better? Space stroganoff or not-so-Chinese Chinese food. I'm substituting the lo mein for those slimy noodles I found on Tragal-"

Hunk was flipping absently through a dog-eared notebook of beloved shopping lists and recipes, the end of worn pencil poking out from his mouth. He was in full-on "chef mode;" that much was clear.

"Does Keith seem _different_ to you?" Hunk looked up and frowned at the question Lance blurted out.

"Different?"

"Yeah, anything off about him? New?"

"You mean besides the fact he's totally an awesome-super-freaky-space-ninja-cat now?" Hunk let off a low whistle. "I know the purple barely shows on his skin and he's not exactly furry, but _man!_ If it wasn't for his fluffy kitty-bat ears, I'd totally be terrified of him! Kolivan did a number on him. Do you think Galra have steroids?"

Lance cocked his head in contemplation. Keith definitely was more space ninja-y than before, but 6 months in immersive Marmora training could do that to anyone-with or without steroids. God knows what creepy assassin skills Kolivan had pounded into him during training.

Lance made a mental note to check under his bed before going to sleep that night. Just in case.

"So stroganoff or Almost-Chinese. I think I figured out how to make a passable wrapper for the spring rolls, but I'm still playing around with the beef and broccoli. Believe it or not, there's not really a good space substitute for broccoli."

Lance let the soothing, warm blanket of Hunk's rambling flow over his head as he tried unsuccessful to tune-out the alarm bells jangling faintly in the back of his brain. His mama would call him a Nervous-Nelly if she knew the level of anxiety creeping up inside him. His sister Leigh would call him a big fat worry wart. Either way, he knew he needed to stop brooding over Keith like a clinging mother hen-preferably before Keith found out.

* * *

Keith couldn't stop eating. To be fair, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stop himself even if he wanted to. He felt himself reaching for another spring roll even as he continued shoveling a heaping forkful of stir fry into his mouth with his other hand. He barely bothered to chew, wincing instead at the thick lump he forced down his throat. There was a loud throat-clear he couldn't quite manage to ignore. He looked up and sheepishly met Shiro's familiar gaze.

"Did Kolivan starve you?"

Keith quirked a smile, a difficult task with his bulging cheeks, and gave a light shrug. "Guess I missed Hunk's cooking more than I thought I would."

"Awww! Keith, you do care!" Hunk was beaming widely across the table. "Just for that, you earned yourself the last spring roll."

"Hey, I wanted the last roll!"

Hunk sniffed at Pidge and stared down his pudgy nose. "I reward the grateful! You barely touched your stir fry!" Pidge began tapping irately at her Mini-Screen she'd smuggled beneath the table. She muttered something that instantly had Shiro on high alert.

"What was that, Pidge?"

The girl shot him wide grin that was nothing short of angelic-in a fallen angel sort of way. "I was just saying how much I love the taste of stinky feet."

A guffawing laugh escaped Keith's throat before he could stop it. It was quickly joined by the others. Even Allura managed a quiet chuckle at their resident chef's expense. Coran, however, peered closely at a forkful of stir-fry as if searching for hidden toes among the chopped vegetables and meat.

Keith was vaguely aware of the fading chuckles around him as his stomach gave an all-to-familiar jerk. Saliva pooled coldly in his mouth as his chest constricted. He jumped upright in blind panic and stumbled desperately from the table. He was already bent over the garbage chute by the time he realized he'd made it to the kitchen.

Footsteps shuffled awkwardly behind him and voices whispered their not-so-subtle concern as his body violently rejected his meal. His eyes stung and his nose burned with bile and stomach acid. He let himself slump against the chute several long minutes after the final dry heave. He had no desire to turn and see his teammates' worried expressions. He had even less desire to answer the unavoidable slew of questions about to assault him.

"My lad, I believe a trip to the med bay is in order. I don't believe Hunk's cooking warranted such an... _extreme_ reaction, ill-smelling feet or not." Coran was fiddling with his mustache pensively. Keith could practically hear the gears turning in the man's head. He fumbled for a plausible excuse, but before he could muster even a half-way decent lie, Shiro was already staging a follow-up interrogation.

"How long have you felt sick? Could you have caught a bug at the Blades' base?" Shiro's features were taut with worry, his eyes searching. Every lie in Keith's frantic brain sounded flimsy and shallow, like a bad Halloween mask. There was no way he was lying his way out of this. He inhaled shakily and braced for a tenuous confession.

"It comes and goes. It's usually just nausea, but sometimes if I eat too fast I get sick. It's wasn't you Hunk; it's me."

"Wow, bad break-up lines 101. Sorry, Hunk, you still got dumped," Pidge snickered to herself in the backround.

Hunk narrowed his eyes at her, but quickly turned his attention back to Keith. "I am so sorry, dude. I shouldn't have made the Chinese. Do you want tea? I know a ginger recipe that's good for stomach upset? Technically, we don't actually have ginger, but I found this root substitute-"

"Whoa whoa whoa! Hold the phone. You said this comes and goes? How often and when did it start?"

Keith pointedly ignored the intense frown plastered over Lance's face. Somehow, Voltron's cheesy Blue jokester had evolved into a mother-henning watchdog during Keith's absence. He had no idea how he felt about this transformation or why so much of this protective energy was suddenly assaulting him.

"Last month or so. I haven't really noticed it much. Heavy training always makes me kind of queasy.

The concern on Shiro's face instantly evolved into full-fledged alarm. "Keith, I think you're due for a vacation. I have no idea how much work Kolivan put you through with the Blade, but there's nothing wrong with you taking a short break before you jump back into Voltron training."

Keith didn't bother to stifle his humorless snort of amusement.

"I'm fine! Last time I checked we're in the middle of war. You don't get vacations in between battles."

Keith shoved away from the garbage chute and stalked past the group. He was 100% done talking about this. So he puked a little... big deal. It wasn't like he'd gotten an arm hacked off. Why were they turning it into a crisis? He might have heard a concerned shout from Shiro, but the dining room door was already sliding shut behind him.

* * *

"Paladins, we just intercepted an emergency communique from the Rebel Coalition. A small fleet of the supply ships was ambushed by two large Galran flagships. The cargo contains critical supplies that cannot be afford to be lost."

Shiro nodded thoughtfully at the Princess' hurried briefing over the Lions' intercoms and tapped his index fingers restlessly against Black's thrusters. He heard her displeased growl in the back of his mind over the mission update. Two flag ships against a small supply fleet wasn't a battle. It was a massacre. Fish in a barrel had a better chance of escape. There was a very real possibility that Voltron would simply arrive too late to do anything more than avenge their fallen comrades. Even wormholes weren't always fast enough.

A bright red flash caught Shiro's peripheral. The Red Lion was racing forward at a murderous speed with no sign of hesitation. Shiro frowned. Keith had been back with the team nearly two weeks, but this was the first real conflict they'd faced together. He couldn't ignore the subtle sense of awkwardness hovering over the group like a circling vulture. Everything felt ever-so-slightly stilted and forced, as though no one was quite sure how to ease back into their previous dynamics. Lance was back in Blue. Keith was back in Red. In a diplomatic, peace-keeping gesture, Allura had volunteered to sit out altogether to oversee missions with Coran from the Castleship. She seemed to sense the tension before anyone else and had been more than willing to sacrifice her temporary piloting position to preserve the peace. Awkward didn't begin to cover the game of "musical-lions" they were stuck playing.

"Keith, steady. I know we have to hurry, but we can't afford the risk of rushing into an unknown situation alone. We stick together."

"We don't have time!"

Shiro winced at the shout and sped up to match Red's breakneck speed.

"Keith, wait for us!"

"We can't afford to ease into this! We get there now and save the rebels or we show up late and clean up the wreckage!"

The coms went dead silent at Keith's blunt words. Shiro could feel the tension oozing from the others. None of them dared utter a word.

"We'll get there as quickly as we safely can, but we will arrive together as a team. That's an order."

There was a half-a-tick hesitation at the verbal ax-swing. Keith was obviously tasting the iron that had crept into Shiro's voice. The Black paladin frowned. He hated pulling rank. Far too many instructors and officers back at the Garrison had pulled that stunt with him during his cadet days. He'd always believed that true leaders never had to remind their followers who was in charge. He'd just subjected Keith to the same cold authority he'd always hated. What did that say about him as a leader?

"Yes, sir."

* * *

They arrived too late.

Twisted scraps of glowing, red-hot metal floated aimlessly in the dark void of space. No ships were intact, Gala or Rebel. Keith stared at the wreckage, a hot flame of guilt worming its way through his chest. _Failure,_ an ugly voice whispered in his ear. He gritted his teeth and cursed. How many rebels had been lost because of them?

Keith cringed at the muffled half-sob he heard over the comm. They all knew Matt wasn't in this Rebel fleet. A quick, on-screen visit several days earlier had confirmed that he was still holed-up on the outskirts of Rebel territory, far from any possible conflicts and busy working on new coalition weapons. Keith knew this reassurance didn't make anyone feel better. Matt could have very easily been on any of the annihilated ships. If he'd been on-board they would have lost him. _Again_. There wouldn't have been any more second chances.

Keith inhaled shakily, steeling himself against the surge of emotions bubbling up inside. It didn't matter how close to home this hit. They had to stay focused on the mission at hand. Pidge must have been thinking the same thing because he heard her give a shaky sniffle and bite out a dark curse that normally would have had Shiro instantly chastising. Their leader didn't comment, though. He was too busy delegating search quadrants to hunt for survivors.

"Hunk, Lance, begin trolling the wreckage for survivors. Take twelve o'clock and work your way clockwise. There's still a chance some survived. Pidge-"

"Wait! I'm getting proximity readings on ships! They're not far and they're definitely Galra! I'm patching the coordinates through to your HUDs now."

"Fighters?"

"No, the readings are too big to be fighters. At least one of the flagships is still nearby. We can still rescue the survivors!"

"Pidge, we have no certain intel what ship the survivors may be on... if they were even taken onboard."

"I know one way to find out."

"Keith, fall back!"

Shiro's warning shout felt to the back of Keith's consciousness like wafts of smoke as he took off after Pidge's coordinates. If the survivors were still around, there was no time to sit around and talk about it. Red was fast and strong. One in and out reconnaissance mission wasn't a big deal. He'd survived far worse with the Blades with far worse odds.

The chattering com went abruptly silent. He looked down idly with a frown. He didn't remember switching it off.

Pidge had been right about the distance. Within less than a dobash, a looming dark mass appeared up ahead. Keith slowed and scanned his screens for signs of patrolling fighters. All was quiet and still. If anything, the flagship seemed to be waiting for them.

"All right, girl, let's take a look." Keith gently eased his thrusters forward, aiming for the dark underbelly of the ship.

It took him half a tick to realize they weren't moving. He frowned, forcing the thrusters forward harder. The instruments slid forward with their usual ease, but Red remained stubbornly frozen in place. "Hey, come on, we're sitting ducks. Let's go!"

An odd sound filled Keith's mind. Something between a growl and a whine-definitely not a sound Keith had ever heard her give before. "Red?" The question hung silently between them.

Keith's HUD flashed an abrupt and angry red warning. He looked up to find two fighters whizzing closer. He couldn't tell whether they'd already been spotted yet, but they definitely would be it they didn't get moving.

"Red, let's go!" Before Keith could jerk the thrusters, Red was already barrel-rolling out of the fighter's trajectory. A fierce roar filled Keith's mind like a canon boom. Red sounded angry. No, not angry. _Furious_.

Keith grabbed for the thrusters and stomped at the left rudder petal to bank hard for a clear shot, but Red clearly had plans of her own. They continued at a sharp, gut-jerking plummet far from the fighters' reach. Too far to even think about returning fire. Keith cursed and flung the instruments away hotly. They were all but useless to him now. He wasn't piloting Red anymore. She clearly had her own agenda, and he was nothing more than a helpless passenger.

The coms abruptly crackled to life; Shiro's voice was the first thing Keith heard


	2. Hiding in Plain Sight

**Just a little backround before we launch into chapter 2. Originally, this was posted to A03, but I ended up deleting my account and moving here for reasons I won't discuss. I wanted to explain in case this story seemed familiar and you weren't sure why (you might have already spotted it on A03). Also, while this story will delve into some pretty heavy topics later on, I promise I'll give appropriate chapter warnings and mention triggers for everyone's safety. However, to avoid spoilers I'll be as vague as I can. Please *please* feel free to PM me or drop any questions in the comments if you'd like more details. While I enjoy occasionally traumatizing my characters, I do *not* wish to hurt any readers.**

 **One last thing... comments and thoughtful reviews are my life blood. ;3**

* * *

Keith's fist collided with the Gladiator with a dull, jarring thump. It sounded like a crowbar beating a slab of raw meat. His teeth rattled with the impact and he clenched down hard, squinting through the rivulets of sweat stinging his eyes.

The robot swayed slightly before ducking away smoothly, just out of his reach. Keith narrowly avoiding the sweeping kick that sailed toward his gut. He grunted and shouted an annoyed curse as he hand-springed to safety.

Kolivan had taught him that.

Keith felt the muscles in his neck grow taught at the memory of their last training session. It felt like it had only been just yesterday Kolivan was barking orders and dishing out criticism over his careless offense style.

Keith knew Kolivan would have berated him mercilessly over the sloppy flip he'd just executed. Keith could practically hear the leader's quiet, unforgiving tone burning his ears. So much force for such quiet words. Kolivan would have made him perform the flip at least a dozen times more until he'd reached perfection. Keith wouldn't have left the training room until the execution was as flawless as it had been back at Marmora headquarters.

The door swished open behind him, but Keith didn't look up. He was too busy launching a new assault on his metal sparring partner. He was so close! If he could just get in another few strategic hits, the level would be over.

"I told you to meet me here. I didn't expect you to punish yourself with a level 10 training session."

"Level 13."

"You've never fought that level."

"The Blades have a sparring simulator too. The levels aren't the same, but close."

Silence hung awkwardly in the air like a floating ax. Keith didn't dare look back. He couldn't stand to see the face he knew Shiro was wearing.

Worry, concern, and a healthy dose of loving frustration. He'd seen that face way too often. He'd gotten more than his share of it back at the Garrison and he had no desire to see it again.

Keith hissed in pain at the iron fist that clipped his shoulder. He ducked down and swung a leg out at the Gladiator as he thrust his blade upward. He didn't even come close to his target. If robots could laugh, his partner would be roaring with glee at his sloppy maneuvers.

"You're favoring your left leg."

"Deep muscle bruise. Ulaz said it will fade in another week or so."

"How is Ulaz?"

"Fine. He wants to visit."

Keith listened to the thundering pulse roaring within his ears as he waited for the inevitable anvil that was about to fall.

"End training program."

The Gladiator seemed to hesitate ever so slightly as if reluctant to end its battle. Keith stood hunched and panting as the robotic eyes flashed dark and the metal body went slack before him.

"Wasn't done," he croaked between pants.

"Keith, we need to talk."

"No we don't."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say." Keith finally turned to face the man.

"Keith, you're behaving erratically and irresponsibly and it needs to stop. We're a team and every decision effects the whole group. They look up to you as a leader. You can't waste that influence."

"I don't sound like that!" Shiro's calm, measured tone went undeniably shrill in protest over Keith's sarcastic imitation. Shiro gave a rueful smile at the mockery, shaking his head slightly in amusement. The corner of Keith's mouth jerked up in a small reluctant grin.

"Do too. I should know. I've heard at least a hundred versions of that same speech." Shiro clipped Keith on the shoulder and playfully pulled him down beside him. The pair sat silently on the foam training mats. Keith's ears twitched slightly at the faint, nearly undetectable thump of Shiro's restless fingers against the mat. His fists uncurled and his own claws joined the steady rhythm.

"Seriously, though. They do look up to you," Shiro finally said, his voice careful and low.

"I've been gone too long. Am I really even part of the team anymore?" Keith felt Shiro's eyes bore into him, but he couldn't quite force himself to meet the penetrating gaze.

"You have to believe me when I say that no one on this team thinks any less of you for leaving. You could have been gone far longer and we'd still see you as the Red Paladin. Family, Keith. It doesn't change."

Keith jerked slightly at the warm, protective hand the suddenly settled on his shoulder. It felt so different than Kolivan's had. Smaller. Gentler. More breakable.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I was out of line."

"Can I ask why you've been so on edge since you got back? Before you left... I don't know. You seemed calmer. More in control. What's changed since then?"

Keith felt his ears instantly flick back in outrage. The faint purple hairs on the back of his neck were already arching in anger.

"I'm still in control. Nothing's changed!"

Keith saw Shiro's features grow tight at his sudden shout. "I'm fine! Lance's already been bugging me with questions every since I got back. I don't want any more."

"Alright, Keith. If you don't want to talk right now, I won't force you." Shiro let the words hang silently between them. Keith looked over at the man that was for all intents and purposes his brother. Suddenly, he didn't look nearly as young and confident as he had back at the Garrison. Tell-tale bags and fine wrinkles had somehow evolved about his eyes-Lines Keith had no doubt helped put there.

"Let me ask this, though," Shiro murmured. "Did you _want_ to come back here or did Kolivan force you to leave?"

Keith heard himself give a feral, keening shriek that fell somewhere between a growl and a scream. He didn't think. He let himself run.

* * *

 _Quiznak_ _..._

Pidge narrowed her eyes at the vacant seat across from her. She whipped off her glasses and began cleaning non-existent smudges irately. This was ridiculous! This was _beyond_ ridiculous on so many levels. The others were quietly enjoying the Space burgers Hunk managed to concoct for dinner. There was idle chatter and small talk, but it was a far cry from their usual rowdy mealtimes together. Hunk was rambling on about his recipe, Allura and Shiro were discussing new plans for the upcoming coalition dinner-slash-brainstorming session, and Coran and Lance were holding a debate over the cryopod cleaning schedule (not that Lance was even close to convincing the advisor to change his mind about the weekly cleanings).

No one was addressing the elephant in the room, but it was abundantly clear that their missing Paladin was still on everyone's minds judging by the furtive glances they kept sneaking at Keith's empty chair. He'd already been gone for so long with the Blade. Now, they'd somehow managed to lose him again. Seriously! They'd just gotten him back.

To the best of their knowledge he was still holed-up in his bedroom as he had been for the past three days since the failed Coalition- rescue fiasco. If not for the missing food and empty food trays in the sink each morning, they wouldn't have had a clue he was even in the castle still. His door had remained firmly locked in "privacy mode" and he hadn't responded with a single word regardless of who banged on his door. They'd all taken turns knocking-practically begging for a sign of some kind. Some sort of reassurance that Keith was still in there and okay.

Pidge's gaze fell on Shiro. He was still chatting with the Princess, but his grey eyes were soft and sad even as his jaw muscles twitched in repressed concern. He could easily over-ride Keith's door (Allura and Coran could, too). He wouldn't though. He knew Keith well enough to know that forcing his way inside was by far the worse response to the Red Paladin's self-imposed hibernation.

"Don't touch that last burger, Hunk!" Pidge quickly yanked the tray away from Hunk's grasp. Before he could protest, she rushed it to the kitchen and slid it on a meal tray with a bowl of sliced fruit and a pouch of juice. She added a bowl of the fluffy, green dessert as an afterthought. None of them-not even Allura or Coran-knew what it was, but it was _fluffy_. _Fluffy_ was always good!

"I'm bringing him food since no one else cares!"

"Shut your quiznak, Pidge!" Lance burst out. He crossed his arms over his chest and shot her an ugly glare. "Of course we care about him! What are we supposed to do, though? Bust down his door and force him to come out? If he wants to sit in there like a quiznak-ing drama queen and angst all over himself, then whatever!"

Pidge watched him stalk off, smirking at the irony of his response. _Who's being a drama queen now,_ _Lance?_

"You know we care about him, Katie," Shiro murmured. "We have to respect his space, though. As much as I want to know what's wrong, Lance is right. We can't force him to tell us if he's not ready."

Pidge sniffed and resisted the urge to give a massive eye-roll. Whatever. Keith may not voluntarily admit what his beef was, but that didn't mean she couldn't find out with some good old-fashioned deduction.

Time to go Sherlock Mode.


	3. On a Scale of 1 to 10

**A/N: Finished one summer class a little early! To celebrate I thought I'd post a tad early. ;3 Thank you so much to those of you who followed/favorited. It may seem like a small thing, but to a self-conscious author, it's a real confidence-boost.**

* * *

Keith sat cross-legged on his bed, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. His chest rose and fell in a series of slow, measured breaths.

 _Concentrate on the Moment. Control the clamor or it will control you..._

The mantra made his chest ache hotly in a blend of familiarity and longing. Kolivan's low voice burned like simmering embers in his mind. How many times had the Blade leader made him repeat that mantra? It had worked then. Somehow, those simple words had corralled the clamor and chaos galloping through his mind. It no longer worked now, though. Keith gave a pained, frustrated growl at the now-useless mantra. He suspected it wasn't the words that were defective. It was the fact Kolivan was no longer around to say them with him. Kolivan was the active ingredient that was missing.

Keith inhaled slowly and forced himself to hold it for several long seconds. He concentrated instead on the steady _ba-_ _thump_ of his pulse in his ears. Another phrase rose unbidden to his mind.

 _Patience yields focus._

His eyes cracked open with a wince. The memory of the hurt on Shiro's face swam into focus with sharp clarity. The look of raw concern still stung Keith's conscience. He silently cursed his lack of control several days earlier. Why had he snapped like that?! He knew he was less than stable even on a good day, but to have such a pathetic meltdown in front of Shiro no less!

 _Disgusting. Weak._

Kolivan had trained him better than this!

He shook his head hard and forced himself back into his meditation. He needed it badly. It was nearly impossible to perform correctly without Kolivan's guidance, though. It wasn't enough to quote a mantra and hold his breath. He needed Kolivan's help.

Kolivan was no longer with him. He probably never would be again after what Keith knew he'd done.

"Concentrate on the moment," Keith breathed softly, squinting his eyes shut. He exhaled slowly and nearly jumped out of his skin at the chorus of pounding suddenly shaking his door.

"Keith, open up! I brought dinner."

Keith stared at the closed door in stunned silence when he heard Pidge's demanding voice. He wanted to answer, but his words wouldn't come. Any response he could muster sat frozen in his throat. He imagined the girl standing out in the hallway. How long would it take for her to give up and leave like all the others had before?

"Keith, I'm not leaving until you open this door. I've been thinking... if you can barricade yourself in there then why can't I set up shop out here? It's like a sit-in right? A protest to see who can last the longest? If you think you can beat me, Space Cat, you're about to get your furry butt kicked!"

There was a loud shuffling sound that made Keith's ears swivel and perk up in curiosity. What was she doing? For one panicky tick Keith had the horrible fear that she'd brought some kind of explosive device with her to blast his door open. Experience reminded him that Pidge wasn't above using force if she found it necessary. Before he could panic further, Pidge's nonchalant voice chirped out reassuringly.

"I brought my mini tent, pillows, blankets, lap desk, and laptop. I also have a backpack of snacks and water pouches. I can do this for days, Space Cat."

Keith felt a sudden wild urge to laugh at Pidge's utter ridiculousness. He loved this tiny, unpredictable girl more than he knew how to admit. If she knew she had "sister-privileges" there'd be no stopping her. Only she would think of something this outlandish. He could picture her out in the hallway with her tiny green tent and supplies. No doubt she was totally comfortable in her make-shift nest. He didn't doubt her threat to stay.

"Keith?"

Her voice, although playful and challenging just moments before had gone abruptly quiet and gentle. Keith found himself pressed up close against the door, hands braced on the frame shakily.

"Listen, I don't know what's wrong. Maybe I shouldn't know. Just... I want you to know that no matter what's wrong or how scared you might be..." There was a soft sound Keith couldn't quite interpret. He pressed closer to the door. His chest ached hotly as he imagined Pidge just inches away on the other side.

"I'm here, okay."

* * *

Pidge's 3-Day-Sit-In ended in blood and tears.

Quite literally.

Pidge sat propped against her body pillow, fingers flying over the computer keys with soft clacks. She slipped her glasses up onto her forehead and peered hard at her screen.

 _Patients experience massive systemic reaction including boils approx. 1_ _kro_ _in diameter with recurring night sweats, hallucinations, and personality change._

It was safe to assume that Keith's personality had changed since his return from the Blades, but Pidge had absolutely no clue whether the other 3 symptoms were present. It wasn't like she could just knock on his door and ask if he had boils, night sweats, and hallucinations. Also, she had idea how big a "kro" was. Equivalent to an inch? A centimeter? Space measurements were a tricky thing. She didn't dare open that can of worms right then.

 _Scratch_ _Triko's_ _Disease off the list._

In the 3 days she'd lived outside of Keith's door, she managed to scour through the Castle's medical records, delving in old files and symptomologies of patients treated by the Castle's former healers in the eons of the past. So far, Keith seemed negative for nearly 200 conditions, not that she had a lot of info to go off of. Her own brief observations of his behavior and the few biometric readings she'd salvaged from his armor readings were hardly proper medical observations. It wasn't like she even knew for sure that whatever was bugging Keith was even physical. She could be way off base and still have no idea.

She banged her laptop closed and glared fiercely at the locked door before her. Mentally, she wanted to beg for just a single clue. Anything. Something to tell her if she was at least getting warm.

Keith had been dead silent the past few days. He seemed to have a creepy Space Cat sixth sense regarding when she fell asleep each night (not that she slept long or hard by any means). Without fail, every night he managed to silently sneak the dinner tray she'd left for him inside without being caught. At least she assumed it was Keith who was doing the sneaking. It could be Allura's mice making off with the meal trays for all she knew.

Pidge leaned back on her pillow and inhaled wearily. Stake-outs were tedious. She'd translated thousands of lines of alien computer coding faster than this! The past few days felt so much longer than they should have. She hadn't dared leave her spot for anything longer than a bathroom break—training be screwed. Not even Shiro could budge her. Mercifully, he seemed to understand her mission if his quiet sad smiles and subtle hand squeezes were any indication. If anything, he probably wished he could join her camp-out.

Pidge jolted upright off her pillows, eyes wide. If she had Keith's kittybat ears, she knew they'd be arched straight up in hyper-alert mode. She crawled up to the door and pressed her ear against it so tightly it throbbed. What was that? Was she that worried that she'd progressed into hearing things now?

"Keith, are you okay? I mean, _obviously_ you're not since you're still in there, but..."

Pidge blew a frustrated sigh. She was the last person that should be dealing with all this drama. Why wasn't Lance staging an intervention? He should have more than enough experience with it judging by his obnoxiously huge family back home.

"Are things... getting worse? Has something new happened?"

Silence.

Okay, now she was getting angry. Anger on top of fear was never a good combination for her—for _many_ _many_ reasons. Pidge felt her cheeks grow flaming hot. It was one thing to hole-up in your room and hide from society, but it was another to go completely silent. Keith could at least give her a sign that he wasn't bleeding out or melting into a pile of space goo. Was that too much to ask after her 3-day camp-out?!

"Okay, listen, Keefers. Sorry if you're naked or having _'private time'_ or whatever the quiznack Lance calls it but I'm coming in to make sure you haven't bit the big one!"

Pidge's fingers danced over the door's control panel like a concert pianist as she fluidly hacked her way through. The door hissed open with a satisfied beep and she scrambled inside. She had time to take exactly one fortifying breath to brace herself for whatever she was about to face.

With a shaky exhale, she opened her eyes and peered into the room's dim shadows. As per the norm, Keith's bedroom was a barren wasteland. No knick-knacks, no piles of laundry. There weren't even any blankets of pillows on the bed. Pidge frowned and crept further inside, every nerve jangling shrilly in warning.

"Keith?" she hissed into the darkness. She hunched down and stared at the bed pensively. Where were the blankets? There was nothing under the bed either. The closet was open and as empty as a coffin. Pidge felt her eyes drift over to the bathroom slowly. Her gut gave a jerk as she forced herself to confront the closed door. She reached for the handle. No turning back now.

The door slid open smoothly and Pidge stood stock still in a nauseating mixture of anticipation and raw dread.

The bathroom was dark and silent. In the tiny bathtub along the far wall, a dark shape moved ever so slightly. Pidge bit back a gasp of shock and forced her rubbery legs forward. She knelt down by the tub and reached out slowly, stubbornly ignoring the trembling in her hands.

"Keith, it's me."

The shadow jerked back with a decisive hiss at her touch.

"Go away!" came a raspy croak.

"It speaks!" Pidge leaned closer but withdrew her hands. "Okay, I won't touch you if you don't like it, but you need to talk to me then. Use your frickin' words for once." Keith went silent. Typical. "Let's simplify it then. Yes or no questions, 'kay? First one: are you in pain right now?"

There was heavy pause before Pidge finally heard a returning grunt.

"Sorry, was that a yes-grunt or a no-grunt? I'm a little rusty on my Grunt-ese."

"YES! I'm in pain. Happy?" he whispered, his words hoarse and stilted.

"No, not happy that you're in pain, but I am happy that you finally answered. Next question: Do you know what's wrong?"

"No." The caustic venom in Keith's words had abruptly evaporated leaving nothing behind except a fragile, trembling whisper. "Pidge, I-I don't know what's happening to me."

The raw fear in Keith's words was like a knife in Pidge's gut. She felt it give a painful twist as she sat listening to the shallow, pained breathing that filled the tiny bathroom.

"How long has it been like this?"

"Don't know. It's-It's worse now though. It keeps getting worse!" His words trailed off into a pained moan.

A sudden chorus of violent gags croaked out in the bathroom's silence. Keith's dark figure hunched over the side of the tub, shoulders trembling violent with every heave. Pidge rubbed at his back and closed her eyes against the pain she felt radiating from him. A horrible blend of sobbing and gagging burned her ears as she sat hunched beside him. Her brain was racing through possible solutions faster than she could comprehend.

Okay, things were officially Bad now.

Like they needed a _real_ _adult_ Bad.

Like they needed Coran or Shiro Bad.

No, scratch that. This was obviously some kind of crazy Space Cat problem. Space Cat problems needed a Space Cat Doc. Pidge was pretty sure Coran could get ahold of Ulaz if he made it clear Keith was currently in the process of self-destructing.

When Keith's heaving finally stopped, Pidge managed to scramble over to the light switch. She braced herself and flicked the light on. When she turned back around to face the bathtub she could do no more than just stand and stare.

Yep, things were officially at DEFCON 1 now. Time to call in the big guns.

She tapped at the wrist communicator numbly. "Coran, Shiro, I need you... like _right now_."


	4. Too Little Too Late

**A/N:**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own, but wish I did.**

 **This chapter marks the transition into much more sensitive topics. I can't give a specific chapter warning due to spoilers, but this chapter does deal with serious medical issues that some might find unsettling. Read with care, and try not to hate me too much. I will say this... if you manage to make it through the "squick" you will definitely be rewarded with gratuitous fluff later on. Also, thank you so much for those of you who followed/fav'd. I was so happy to get the lovely guest review. It made my day! 3**

* * *

Keith felt himself unconsciously snuggle deeper into the solid, warm cradle of Shiro's arms. If not for the stabbing pain shooting through his chest and throat, he knew he'd be blushing furiously at the pathetic show of vulnerability he was putting on. He'd never let Shiro carry him before-not even back at the Garrison when stupid Ted Webber pushed him down the stairs. It was bad enough that Pidge had barged her way into his room and caught him heaving up his guts all over the bathroom. No one needed to see him getting carried around the Castle like a helpless baby.

"Keith, stay awake for me, bud! We gotta let Coran take a look at you."

Keith's eyes fluttered open blearily at Shiro's firm command. He hadn't even realized that he'd been drifting off again. He couldn't seem to stay awake no matter how hard he tried. Heavy weights had settled over his eyelids making it impossible to keep them open. Why was he so exhausted? He hadn't trained in days. He had no right to be this out of it!

 _Lazy slob._

He smacked his bloody lips weakly and wished with all his heart for a cold water pouch. He'd never been this thirsty before. Not even when he and Shiro had been trapped on the desert planet after the Worm Hole fiasco. He heard himself give an awful keening moan before he pressed his clammy face into Shiro's warm chest, humiliation burning his cheeks red. He wished he could just close his eyes and disappear.

"Lay him down here, Number One."

Keith shivered and curled in on himself at the cold bite of the table beneath him. He curled into a tight miserable ball, trying desperately to escape the bright light beaming down on him invasively.

"Number Five, explain exactly how you found him."

Keith kept his eyes clamped shut, but he couldn't tune-out the chorus of beeps and whistles from the tool Coran was running up and down his body. He heard Pidge's shaky, but business-like voice in the distant background. His head was too foggy to properly make out her words, but her tone told him all he needed to know. He cringed and curled up tighter. It was more than a little uncomfortable to hear someone that worried about him. He didn't understand why they were so panicky about him. He was fine! Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Keith had the strong suspicion that was no longer an option.

He wanted a blanket—anything to hide the pathetic mess he'd become.

What would Kolivan say if he saw how pathetic he was being? The other Blades would probably laugh. He watched so many of them suffer far worse injuries and keep fighting. He'd gone down without even a battle as an excuse.

"Is he bleeding internally, Coran?"

Keith's fan-like ears unconsciously swiveled toward Shiro's shaky voice. He was still standing protectively at his side. Why was Shiro so upset?

"Yes, my scanners have detected a tear in the mucosal membrane of his esophagus just at the gastro-esophageal junction. Judging by his weakness and the level of shock, he's been bleeding for quite a while to be in this state. No doubt he's already feeling the effects-extreme thirst, exhaustion, disorientation, the list goes on," Coran's rambling voice was oddly taut with worry. "Number Four, can you hear me okay?"

Keith didn't answer. He didn't want to. Even if he did, the pulsating waves of hot pain in his chest and throat were more than enough reason to discourage any attempt.

"Number Four, please, I really must insist that you try to answer. Can you understand me?"

Keith's only response was to tuck his ears down tight against his skull in defense. He hid his face in his arms and didn't both to hide his moan of pain triggered by the movement.

There was a profoundly weary, pained sigh from the advisor before he jumped into action.

"If you can still understand, Keith, I'm going to give you an injection to help you stay calm then I'll set up an intravenous line to rehydrate you. I need to begin replacing your essential vitamins and minerals you lost with your blood."

Keith heart gave an unpleasant little jump within his chest at the rushed explanation. Why the IV? Why wasn't Coran just shoving him in a cryopod? A cold pin-prick of a needle pierced his upper bicep. Keith cringed away at the unsettling sensation of a cannula slipping beneath his skin.

"I'd like to avoid a cryopod if at all possible." Coran's voice was quiet but terse in the background. "They operate best when the patient has a steady, fortified metabolism—something I'm not certain Keith has at his advantage right now."

"Keith, hey, bud, you need to lie still. It's okay. I'm right here." Keith felt Shiro's hands resting firmly on his shoulders. Had he been squirming? He hadn't been trying to fight Coran had he? Shiro's grip was heavy and restricting and more than enough to keep Keith trapped flat on the table.

"Sh'ro?" he hissed in protest. His vocal cords sounded like they'd been littered with shards of broken glass.

"It's okay," Shiro soothed, petting his shoulder with his human hand. Coran's gonna fix you up."

"Gonna be... sick!"

Keith tried to jerk upright, but his arms were too weak to support his weight. Instead, he slumped miserably over onto his side and let the violent heaves arrest his body. Distantly, he heard Pidge's panicky voice mingle with Coran's authoritative orders as they shoved a metal basin beneath his mouth. Loud, shrill alarms began screeching around him like a firestorm. He closed his eyes in dread, but not before he caught sight of the dark red splattering the pan before him. An acrid metallic flavor stained his tongue and burned his nose.

When the heaving finally stopped, he felt a small, gentle hand stroking his forehead. He leaned into the blessed coolness and savored the relief against his burning skin. His eyes cracked open; he watched Coran and Shiro frantically working to strip him of his soaked, bloody clothes. Coran rushed off toward the cryopods, leaving Shiro to stand guard over Keith's pale, naked body as he was wrestled with a white pod suit and tried to feed Keith's floppy legs inside.

"Keith, you still there?"

Listlessly, his eyes swiveled up slightly and found Pidge's soft, calculating eyes staring down at him. He leaned into her gentle touch as far as his weakened muscles would allow.

"You're gonna be okay. Coran's nixing the IV. He thinks the cryopod will get you fixed up faster, even with the blood loss. Couple of vargas and you'll be back to your old emo self, 'kay?"

Keith tried for a smile, but he had the sneaking suspicion it came out more as a grimace.

"Okay, bud, I'm going to lift you up. Lie as still as you can." Keith's bleary mind was still processing Shiro's warning as a pair of muscled arms scooped him up with ease. He blinked and found himself on his feet, swaying drunkenly inside the pod. Before he had time to protest, a harsh chill bit into his skin. With a puff of icy air, everything went completely black around him.

* * *

Shiro stood staring at the frail, white face before him. Dried red, crusted stains stood out starkly around Keith's mouth. They hadn't had time to properly clean the blood off him before stuffing him into the pod. He'd barely managed to get him into the pod suit in time. The bloody vomit covering him hadn't mattered, not with his plummeting blood pressure and fluttering heart rate to contend with.

"His vitals are rising nicely. He should be stable enough to come out within a varga or so." Shiro didn't quite manage to return the reassuring smile the old man offered. Despite his concern, the old advisor was as irrepressible as ever; Shiro couldn't quite match his optimism.

"How did he get a tear in his esophagus? It couldn't have been a training injury and we haven't been in any major battles lately either."

"It's a Mallory-Weiss tear."

Shiro and Coran turned in surprise at the quiet voice. Pidge sat hunched beneath an extra exam table, her laptop cradled in her lap. Her eyes looked worrisomely large with barely-concealed anxiety. "I've been reading...People can literally tear their esophagus open if they keep puking for a long time or if it's really severe."

Coran gave a thoughtful hum and frowned. "In my experience, Alteans rarely experience severe episodes of vomiting. Few diseases share this particular symptomology for my people. Is this common ailment for humans then?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, we get the stomach flue, food poisoning..." Pidge's voice trailed off. "There's like dozens of reasons why we puke. I don't get why Keith would get such a bad case of it, though. Maybe his Galra side?"

"When he got sick the other night at dinner he mentioned that it had been happening a lot for him. He never explained why though," Shiro remarked with a thoughtful frown.

He inhaled shakily and stared back at the sleeping boy. It suddenly struck him just how different Keith had become. Before he'd left for the Blade, Keith had been little more than a scrawny, if not slightly gangly teenager. Over the course of the training period, he'd sprouted thin, almost translucent patches of fur that left his skin with a subtle purplish sheen. His ears had morphed into large fuzzy replacements that moved like cat ears when he was mad or hyper-alert. To complete the ensemble, a pair of small canines gave him almost a vampirish look if he smiled or frowned to largely. Thin skin and bone from too many months alone in the desert had evolved into taunt cords of impressive muscle and sinew. Keith wasn't the moody runt from foster care Shiro had started mentoring nearly 5 years previous. This was a different Keith on so many levels. How well did he really know this new stranger?

Coran's tablet gave an odd peal. Shiro glanced over quizzically just in time to see the man give a noticeable jump of shock. The advisor was practically bug-eyed as he stood pouring over the tablet's screen. He gave his mustache an energetic tug and promptly slammed the emergency-release button on the cryopod. The door slid open with a loud hiss and puff of icy fog.

"Get a stretcher over here now! Keith cannot stay in the pod a tick longer!"

"Why? What's wrong? You said it would heal the tear." Pidge's question went unanswered.

"Quiznak! Curses on the son of an Antoforan Creelack!"

Shiro and Pidge shared a wide-eyed look of shock at the ugly curse Coran screeched. The advisor was wild-eyed and red-faced as he caught Keith's limp body as it tumbled forward. He shot the pair an exasperated glare as if they should already know the answer to their own question.

"Cryopods are not approved medical devices for those carrying fetuses!"

* * *

Lance narrowly avoided a full-on collision with Shiro in the hallway. He jerked back just in time and watched the man thunder by him silently without so much as an apology. A mental image of a charging bull instantly came to mind. Lance had loved watching the hilarious chaos of the annual bull runs on TV with his family as dozens fled down the packed, narrow streets away from the raging creatures. He and his oldest sister Milagros had secretly made a pact that they would one day join the run-not that his mama would ever find out.

Shiro disappeared into the Castle's Bridge without a backward glance. Lance doubted Shiro had even seen him judging by the lethal expression he'd been wearing. Why was Shiro so mad? Their calm, responsible leader never got mad! Well, not when Slav wasn't around at least. The obnoxious space-weasel hadn't been in the Castle in weeks, though. There was no reason for Shiro's temper to be running this hot. Lance hesitated and strained his memory for possibilities but came up with nothing.

Lance promptly followed the Black Paladin into the Bridge silently, his curiosity to hungry to ignore. He entered just in time to see Kolivan's large purple face flash into view on the com screen. The Blade leader was his usual stoic, take-no-quiznack self judging by the impressive poker face he was currently wearing. Lance winced slightly at the dagger-like glare the Galra leader was silently shooting Shiro. This was going to be interesting...

"How could you send Keith away in his condition?!"

Shiro's words were probably meant to be a question, but the sharp ax-like tone left it far more of an accusation than anything else. Holy crow! Shiro was going _mano-a-mano_ with the Blade's head honcho! There was going to be blood tonight!

 _Wait... Keith's condition? What the-_

"I was not aware the Red Paladin possessed a 'condition,' as you call it," Kolivan bit back smoothly. Shiro stared back unblinkingly, eyes flashing dangerously as they searched for lies.

"You're telling me that you had no idea what was wrong with him when you kicked him out of the Blades?"

"Keith was not 'kicked-out' of anything. He left of his own accord without permission or warning. I was not even aware of his absence until Regris found a rather cryptic note hidden in his quarters. The note claimed that the Princess had ordered him to return to his Paladin responsibilities. An order she had no right to give, I might add." Kolivan's eyes went even darker than Shiro's. "Keith willingly placed himself under my authority as a Blade. The Altean Princess had no right to circumvent my position over him!"

Lance stood stock still, staring open-mouthed at the drama playing out before him. What in space was happening? First Shiro accused Kolivan then Kolivan accused Allura. Who was going to be next in the blame game?

Shiro seemed to falter slightly at Kolivan's words. Uncertainly was visibly creeping through the storm of his anger.

"Allura didn't request Keith's return. I would have known if she sent him any messages. We had no idea he was coming back-it was a shock when he arrived."

Even on screen, Lance could see the Galra's anger flicker slightly like a weakening flame at Shiro's explanation.

"I did not send him away. You have my word on my blade. Keith always has a place here with his brethren."

Shiro's anger finished evaporating. Lance couldn't read the emotion on the man's face anymore. It was too tumultuous. Too many emotions were crowding his features at once.

"Kolivan, can you send Ulaz to the Castle? Keith needs him. _Now_."

Kolivan's poker-face instantly vanished. Lance had never seen the Galran equivalent of fear before. The odd, painfully strained look on Kolivan's face must have been it.

"What is wrong with the kit?!"

 _Yeah, Shiro! What's wrong with the kit?_ _Wait, the kit?! Kolivan_ _calls Keith a kit?_

If not for the stifling fear suddenly filling the room, Lance would have mentally tucked the nickname away for future blackmail purposes. Did Keith even know Kolivan called him that?

"He was very ill the past few days... He wouldn't let anyone near him up until today. Coran finally examined him and found out why." Shiro hesitated, his eyes narrowing in blatant suspicion. "You really have no idea what happened to him?" Kolivan returned the steely gaze.

"Speak, paladin," he thundered.

"The cryopods registered Keith carrying a fetus... a _baby_."

A deafening chorus of alarm bells was currently drowning-out every rational thought Lance's brain could muster. It suddenly occurred to him that this whole thing must be some kind of psychedelic, fever dream. Maybe Hunk had accidentally poisoned them all with some strange alien hallucinogen that morning at breakfast. He'd thought their food had tasted funny that morning! That had to be the only possible explanation for the crazy talk currently coming out of Shiro's mouth.

"I just have one question-"

Shiro's voice took on what could only be described as a deadly tone. Lance gulped hard and took a step back, his shoulders flat against the back wall.

"Who _the_ _hell_ put that thing in Keith?"

* * *

 **A/N: Yes, this story has officially fallen down the mpreg rabbit hole. I make no apology. Please know that the concept of mpreg in this story is not meant as an excuse for mindless kink. This story actually has a cognizant plot. Thank you all for reading and leave your thoughts below. ;)**


	5. Regrouping

**A/N: Because a large portion of this story is pre-written, updates will be more frequent for right now while I have a buffer of material. Also, I just really love posting :3**

 **If you read the last chapter, you know by now that this story deals with mpreg (not the wildy-kinky kind). Even if mpreg isn't your usual cup of tea, I encourage you to stick with this story and just see where it goes. You might be pleasantly surprised.**

 **Thanks so much for the follows and favs. I say this every chapter and I'll keep saying it... feedback and reviews are like dope. If there's something you like or something that quirks your curiosity, please drop a short word so I know I'm going in the right direction. If there's something you don't like, tell me too so at least I know what vibes my story is giving. Thanks and cheers 3**

* * *

Everything was soft and warm. Keith didn't dare open his eyes for fear he would shatter the peaceful sanctuary that was magically guarding him. Instead, he inhaled deeply and purred in surprise at the plethora of scents washing over him. There were so many, yet each one was as gentle and familiar as an old friend. It had been so long since he'd been able to enjoy this warm mixture. He found himself automatically cataloging each one as he mentally sifted through the jumble. Each scent distinct and familiar. There was no chance he could confuse one for another.

 _Warm honey mustard... Hunk._

 _Fresh pine needles... Pidge._

 _ _Cherry Kool Aid... Lance.__

 _Cinnamon_ _ _and Spearmint... Shiro.__

 _Buttered popcorn... Coran._

 _Strawberry syrup... Allura._

Keith gave a languid stretch and buried his face in the soft material surrounding him. To his joy, the scents increased exponentially. He cradled a bundle of material closely as he lay purring, basking in the warm bubble of scents protecting him.

 _Safe_.

That's what he was feeling, he finally decided. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this sheltered and cared for. At the Blades he enjoyed a steady sense of familiarity, but nothing like this. This was far more intimate. He knew he was alone in his nest, yet at the same time the collection of the scents surrounding him gave the distinct impression that the entire Team was lying there with their arms about him.

Vaguely, his large ears gave a twitch, automatically angling toward the quiet sounds they'd somehow detected in the distance. The voices were soft and careful and the speakers obviously had no desire to be over-heard. Keith frowned quizzically, but kept his eyes closed. The voices were far too soft to make out clearly, even with his enhanced Galra hearing. The tones were unmistakable, though. He gulped hard and keened anxiously into the soft bundle in his arms. He felt his anxiety arcing steadily at the fear and uncertainty poisoning the distant voices.

* * *

"What exactly will you be doing to him?"

"Nothing that is not strictly required for the wellbeing of himself and his young."

"How soon will you know if he's safe? How... how will you be treating him?"

"I will examine him thoroughly for signs of complications and potential risk. I will also ensure that he recovers properly from the esophageal tearing and the fluid loss. He has a great deal of strength to regain."

Pidge sat cross-legged on the medbay floor and watched the verbal tennis match ensuing above her-Shiro walloping questions hard and fast and Ulaz returning each one with a shocking level of calm confidence. Did nothing rattle him?

"What about..." Shiro hesitated and sucked in a deep breath. "What about the _birth_ itself?" he finally finished.

Pidge winced at the pink clearly staining Shiro's cheeks. His discomfort and uncertainty were glaringly obvious and it unsettled her to no end. Shiro wasn't allowed to be uncertain and awkward like this! He always had the answers! Until now, apparently.

Ulaz gave pause to Shiro's question. He didn't look uncertain or fearful by any means. His grim, unreadable features softened thoughtfully as he cocked his head ever so slightly in consideration.

"I feel it is wise to request additional medical assistance-someone more familiar with human physiology, particularly pregnancy and the birthing processing. I understand that the Altean Advisor is still unfamiliar with many aspects of human physiology. Keith's Galra heritage has allowed him to catch his partner's seed, but I must admit that I am not completely certain how the development of the kitlings will affect his human anatomy. Are you or the any of the other Paladins comfortable overseeing his care in conjunction with my oversight?"

Shiro stood silently, his eyebrows knitted together in a tight mask of anxiety. "I... I know some about human pregnancy, but..." His voice trailed off. "Ulaz, you have to understand. On earth, only females have the ability to carry a child. Keith... Galra or not, he shouldn't be pregnant. He's male!"

"You misunderstand. Forgive me for not being more explicit. Galra are what most would view as an intersex species. Male and Female are loosely divided terms often forgone altogether in our culture. Galra rely far more on our secondary sexual orientations for the purpose of forming bondships and breeding young. Alphas as the predominant class with the ability to impregnate. Omegas as the second-largest class with the ability to carry young. Betas as the minority, primarily sterile, but sometimes capable at conceiving at very low, hazardous rates. Even with his mixed lineage, Keith would be classified as an omega in our culture."

Pidge found herself soaking the information in with a hunger that surprised her. Alien culture had always fascinated her on many levels, but this was different. This wasn't just some distant alien civilization on a random planet. This was her team mate and pseudo-brother's _de facto_ heritage being discussed! This was Keith's world now whether they fully understood it or not.

"How many young do Galra typically carry?"

Ulaz looked down at her in surprise. Pidge's earlier silence had all but rendered her invisible.

"Litters of 2 to 3, but the runt does not always survive. Galra birthing is notoriously long and hard for both dame and kitling, particularly for first-time pregnancies. As a hybrid, Keith is susceptible for even more potential complications."

Pidge shuddered as an icy chill ran up and down her spine. _Notoriously long and hard..._ How in space was Keith going to survive this?

"My brother can help you care for him," she heard herself blurt out. Shiro was staring at her as if she'd starting sprouting flowers and vines from her nose and ears.

"Pidge, Matt is an _astrophysicist_ not a doctor," he gently corrected her. Pidge bristled at the patronizing tone that had crept into Shiro's words.

"He's a scientist," she argued, unflinching. "He learned advanced first aid and medical care before the Kerberos. You know it's true! He was to be the ship's medic in case of emergency."

"Katie, there's a huge difference between splinting a broken bone and overseeing an alien-hybrid pregnancy."

Pidge felt her hackles rise. Her chest was already tight and hot. "Matt can help," she repeated. "He knows science. He knows how the human body works. Ulaz takes care of Keith's Galra half; Matt takes care of Keith's human half. It'll work!"

Shiro opened his mouth as if to argue further, but Ulaz had already stolen the conversation. "Please contact your brother and request his presence. If he's to collaborate with me, then we will have a great deal of information to share, preferably as soon as possible."

Pidge nodded numbly. Her ears were ringing too loudly to make out much more of the conversation. She felt herself stumble from the room to comm Matt. She had no clue what she was going to say.

* * *

Keith finally dared to open his eyes. He lay silently and stared at the nest in which he found himself. He didn't remember building it, but that didn't stop him from admiring the workmanship. He ogled at how carefully the pillows had been arranged as nest barriers and padding. Intertwined in loose braids and bundles were countless articles of clothing-shirts, pants, sheets, blankets, towels, jackets. He stared down at the bundle he'd been cradling in his arms and discovered a curious assortment containing Hunk's headband, Lance's jacket, and what looked like the fluffy towel from Pidge's bathroom.

His eyebrows shot up in shock even as his cheeks grew rosy-warm with embarrassment. How long had he been lounging in this nest? More importantly, _who_ had built this nest for him? His time with the Blades had taught him numerous Galra customs, including the sacred art of nesting. He knew nest building was an incredibly intimate, delicate task. Not just anyone could build a nest for another Galra. Family and bond-mates had exclusive privileges. Even then, there were specific customs and rules that had to be observed.

Keith struggled upright, wincing at the sharp burning ache in his chest and throat. Gingerly, he touched his chest, frowning quizzically. Why was he hurting? His brain felt foggy and clouded with memory fragments. He remembered puking and getting carried off to the medbay but little else. He was wearing a loose, flowing gown and nothing else. An IV surreptitiously trailed from his left wrist to a clear baggy hanging above his nest.

It suddenly struck him that he wasn't actually on one of the medbay's gurneys or in a cryopod. His nest was on the floor, built on what felt like a mattress of some kind. Coran would never think to treat him on anything by a gurney. By all rights he should probably be in a cryopod still. If he was resting in a nest then...

"Hello, Kit. How are you fairing?"

Keith's head jerked up in surprise, although he shouldn't have been too shocked. He'd been moments away from coming to the proper conclusion.

"U-Ulaz?" he croaked. He frowned at his rough, crackling voice. He sounded like he'd been gargling razor blades. "You're here?"

Ulaz gave the tiny, half-smile Keith knew he never shared with anyone save his patients. The stoic Galra was all but void of emotion in any other situation. He was a different with his patients.

"I came when Shiro and the Alteans alerted me to your... situation. Are you in any pain?"

Keith nodded fuzzily. _Situation?_ He'd just been throwing up. Ulaz had traveled God knows how many miles to care for his weird stomach flu? Wait... the blood. Keith swallowed hard around the pain in his throat. The vivid spatter of blood flashed in his mind. He'd been bleeding. Badly. Okay, so he didn't have the flu. What was wrong with him then?

Ulaz knelt beside his nest, careful not to encroach the boundary. "Keith, are you aware of why you are unwell?" he pressed, his voice gentle.

Keith shook his head slowly and waited.

"You were experiencing severe bouts of vomiting; your esophagus developed a tear from the force. You were bleeding severely when the youngest Paladin found you. Since I arrived, I've moved you to a more comforting treatment location." Ulaz paused to gesture to the nest. "Shiro gathered personal items from your teammates for your nest. Their scents have calmed you greatly."

Keith felt himself unconsciously shrink deeper into the nest. The fact that the nest actually belonged to him still blew his mind.

"I've already begun treating you for fluid loss. You should regain blood volume and electrolyte balance shortly with the intravenous therapy I administered. However..."

Ulaz paused and Keith's nerves began jangling in warning. "I must inform you of the cause behind your disturbing symptoms. When the Altean advisor attempted to treat your injury in the ship's cryopods, he received a very alarming warning from the sensors. He released you immediately from the pod. The warnings indicated that you are with young."

"Y-Young?" Keith repeated woodenly. His brain had shut off with a sudden, painful snap. Ulaz was still talking, but very few of the words seemed to manage to make it past the screaming in Keith's head.

"You are with young," Ulaz repeated. His voice had grown so soft and gentle Keith barely recognized it as his. "The cryopod did not indicate how many kitlings you are carrying or how long they've been present. I would need to perform a more in-depth examination to determine these details."

"I-I can't... m'not a girl."

"I've explained to Shiro that your Galra heritage has allowed you to develop hermaphroditic traits in addition to your human physiology. You can carry young regardless of your human sex."

"Shiro knows?"

"Yes, he was present with the Green Paladin and the Advisor when the news was discovered."

Pidge and Coran knew too.

A horrible churning sensation steadily grew in Keith's gut. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead and he leaned forward weakly, steeling himself against the heaving gags arresting him. Nothing came up, not even bile. He heard himself moan in agony at the fresh waves of pain shooting through his throat. He tasted blood.

Ulaz was fiddling with the IV baggy, adding drops of a blue-colored liquid. "I'm administering a higher dose of antiemetic to combat your nausea. You must allow your esophagus to heal." Ulaz's clinical tone vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. "Keith, it will be okay. I understand this must be frightening."

"You have no idea what this is like!" Keith croaked. "I-I can't have a baby! I-I..."

The nausea abated even as waves of violent tears swept over him. A pair of strong hands suddenly grabbed him and held him close. Keith sobbed and wailed into the massive chest, his hot tears and snot instantly soaking the physician's tunic. He fought the strong hug in a frenzy of panicked emotion, but Ulaz only held him closer, gently pinning his arms in the embrace lest he hurt himself. The Galra was still speaking, murmuring soft words and gentle reassurances Keith couldn't fathom in his hysteria. Ulaz whispered something in Galran that the Castle's translators didn't catch.

" _M'rocki_ _o'teava._ "

Keith sniffed weakly and buried his face deeper into the numbing warmth of the chest. He heard Ulaz's heart faintly and he clung to the steady beat like a lifeline.

* * *

Hunk watched Shiro quietly enter the Common Room, eyes downcast and shoulders rigid. His imposing leader mask was noticeably lacking.

Hunk cringed at the loud shuffling of Lance beside him. His friend was visibly squirming, fingers tapping on his lap and feet banging quietly at the bottom of the couch. He had absolutely no clue why Lance was so jumpy. For the past few hours he'd acted as though a colony of ants had literally crawled up his pants and taken up permanent residence. Lance was twitchy and hyper on his best of days, but this was ridiculous! Hunk peered at him out of the corner of his eye and frowned at the permanent blush that still rested on Lance's cheeks. He looked awkward...mortified would be a better word. What had he been up to?

Shiro cleared his throat softly and Hunk looked up. He was surprised to notice Coran at his side. When had he come in? The advisor had been missing for the better part of the day. There hadn't been a single clue as to where he'd been or what he'd been up to, but by the quiet, pained expressions on both his and Shiro's face... well. Hunk had the sneaking suspicion he wasn't about to hear anything good.

Allura harrumph loudly beside him as if to remind the room of her presence. She nodded impatiently. "Please explain why you've called this meeting, Shiro." Allura's voice was oddly demanding and tense. She knew something was wrong. Hunk winced and placed a hand on his gut gingerly. The palpable tension in the room was anything but good for his hyper-sensitive gut.

 _Wait!_ Hunk's eyes swiveled back to Lance. His friend was practically bouncing in place now. He could not sit still. His eyes were wide and rooted carefully on the floor. _He knows_ , Hunk realized. Lance already knew what Shiro's not-so-good-news was! He was already in on the "how," "when," and "why" of whatever hell had decided to break loose!

"And where's Pidge?" Allura pressed. "It's not like her to be late to a Team meeting, let alone miss one."

"She had some business to take care of," Shiro explained, his answer oddly vague. "It's actually part of why I called everyone here."

Hunk watched Shiro take a deep, fortifying breath and he barely resisted the urge to jump up and hug the tension out of their leader. It had been a long time since Shiro had looked this drained. Not since he and Keith had escaped the desert planet by the skin of their teeth. Shiro had returned sporting a gapping, glowing wound courtesy of Haggar. He'd been sheet-white and ready to collapse. Now... well, he didn't look much better.

"I didn't want to say anything earlier, but Ulaz is here. I contacted Kolivan and asked him to send Ulaz here for Keith. A while ago, Pidge discovered that Keith was badly bleeding. His vomiting was so severe, he tore his esophagus. Coran tried to treat him in the cryopod, but a warning message popped up. Keith couldn't be inside the pod because... well, because the machine registered him as _pregnant_."

Hunk looked around blinking dumbly. This was a sickly-planned prank. This couldn't even be classified as dark humor. He stared at Lance, praying for a smirk to show that this whole thing was some crazy April Fool's Day joke. Was it April Fool's Day? It'd been so long since he'd looked at an earth calendar. Lance wasn't smiling, though. A sheen of sweat stood out against his reddened skin. He was still staring hard at his jittery hands as if they were the most interesting things on earth...no, scratch that. The most interesting thing _in space_!

"Shiro, explain," Allura demanded, her lips tight and eyes flashing.

"Sometime during Keith's absence... he... he got pregnant. I don't know all the logistics and frankly, Keith isn't up to having a big discussion about this right now. He had no idea he was pregnant until Ulaz told him. Ulaz explained that Keith's half-Galra side is responsible. His Galra... _features_ made it possible for him to carry a child."

"Yes, I understand Galra possess hermaphroditic physiology. It's always been a sore point. When Altea and Gal were in close relations, the Galra mating and breeding customs often proved quite scandalous to my people. It was scarcely spoken of in public." Allura sniffed and wrinkled her brow thoughtfully. Her frown deepened. "Was Keith's mating consensual?"

"He has not mated."

Every eye shot up at the deep, smooth voice. Ulaz stood quietly in the doorway, arms crossed. "I do not know all the details of Keith's pairing, but he has not formed a bondship. His scent has not changed. It still shows him to be un-bonded."

" _Scent?"_ Lance choked.

"Yes, Galra operate off a complex mechanism of scent. It can reveal a great deal. Personal identify, health, relationship status. Even emotional changes."

"So Keith's having Galra babies?"

Hunk eyebrows had shot up to his hairline in excitement. He knew he should be horrified. Scandalized. Even just plan scared to death for Keith's sake. However, the only real emotion he could pin-point was awe. Did anyone realize just how adorable half human-half-Galra babies would be?! Would they get Keith's kittybat ears? What about fur? Tiny fangs? What about toe beans! Galra were basically space cats. That would make Keith's babies space kittens. Space kittens should have tiny pink toe beans! Wait, what did their father look like. Er...was it father or mother? Allura said Galra were hermaphroditic? Who or _what_ exactly was the other parent?

"I'm uncertain of the number of kitlings, but Keith is by my estimate just ending his first cycle-one-third of the way into completion of his pregnancy."

 _Kitlings!?_

Hunk barely suppressed his urge to _squee_! "Kitlings" was officially the most adorable word he'd ever heard.

"So first-trimester then..." Hunk hummed thoughtfully. "Do you know if he's having any cravings yet? My brother's wife had the most extreme Poptart cravings I've ever seen in my life. It was... _not_ pretty! Keith has to be starving right now. He hasn't eaten in a long time-like really eaten. What's safe for pregnant half-Galra's to eat?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Fun fact: Galra get pregnancy cravings too ;3**


	6. Ask Me No Questions

**Chapter Warnings: Awkward medical issues and discussions. Vague reference to dub/con.**

* * *

It was officially time to stop crying. Blades didn't cry. Paladin's didn't either. _Stop sobbing and start fighting!_

Keith stiffened his shoulders and forced himself to sit upright. No more lounging about. He had no desire to actually leave his nest, though. Instead, he compromised. He sat cross-legged, hugging Shiro's vest tightly to his chest. He buried his nose into the material and sniffed deeply, allowing the spicy, fresh tang of the spearmint to numb him. It felt like it was actively shutting off the anxious sections of his brain one by one like flipping a light switch. It wasn't perfect. Areas of his brain were still burning bright with fear, but it was definitely better.

"Your team is now aware of your circumstances." Keith visibly jumped at Ulaz's sudden voice. He grimaced, picturing their possible reactions.

Lance was probably speechless-for once in his life. Keith had a hard time picturing him doing anything more than squirming with his no-doubt bright red cheeks. For the galaxy's biggest flirt, Lance was actually pretty squeamish about intimate details such as the actual mechanics of sex beyond a messy make-out or accidentally finding one of Pidge's tampons in the communal bathroom. Then there had been that time he'd been stuck sitting through the Altean version of the birds-and-the-bees courtesy of an overly-enthusiastic Coran. Lance would ever admit his discomfort and awkwardness. Keith allowed himself a tiny smug grin. The idea of his pregnancy was probably _squicking_ Lance to death.

Hunk wouldn't be too weirded-out, though, Keith decided. Some, sure, but not enough to stop him from asking plenty of nosy questions. Keith's mind flew back to that first mission with Hunk right after the team had found out about his mixed heritage. Hunk's curiosity was nearly as insatiable as Pidge's.

 _Is your mom Galra? Your dad? How Galra_ _are you?_

Allura's reaction... Keith closed his eyes and ground his molars together. Well, that was a whole ball of worms altogether.

Keith abruptly forced his mind away from the tender wound. He couldn't think about Allura's possible reactions right now. Memories of her prejudice still stung hotly even long after they'd made peace. If she'd lost it finding out about his heritage then, she was no doubt horrified to learn that he was actively growing more half-bloods inside him. Well, _three-quarter bloods_ wouldn't it be? Half-human, half-Galra plus one full Galra equals... Yep, about three-quarters.

"Keith," Ulaz interrupted gently. He was kneeling beside his nest politely. His face was soft and open. Keith felt the sudden urge to cry again.

 _No! No more crying!_

"I would like to perform a physical assessment to ensure you are safe and healthy. The kitlings must also be examined to see if they are growing properly." Keith winced. Nothing sounded quite so daunting and invasive as _'physical assessment.'_ Still, this was Ulaz... He knew Ulaz. The Galra had patched him up many times after messy training accidents and rough missions. Ulaz wouldn't hurt him.

"S-Sure."

"I apologize, but you'll need to leave your nest for a short period. I'll need to access my equipment and proper lighting to examine you properly."

Keith nodded stoically and forced himself to finally abandon his nest. He swore his chest ached at the loss of the familiar smells. With coltish, rubbery legs, he forced himself to stumble over to the nearest gurney only to stop in shock as Ulaz abruptly forced a soft brown jacket into his arms—Lance's. Keith didn't even try to stop himself from burying his face in the sleeves.

 _Cherry Kool Aid..._

"Lie flat for me please."

Keith complied, painfully aware of how sickly white his already pale, purplish skin looked under the harsh medbay lighting. The flimsy medical gown did little to cover him. Ulaz seem to sense his embarrassment; he was already draping a warmed blanket over his lower body, smoothing his hair back gently in the same motion. Keith leaned into the reassuring touch.

"I will take your vitals first. Rest and be still."

Keith didn't want to rest. The constant surge of adrenaline kept him taut and hyper-alert. Every nerve and muscle felt stretched like rubber bands about to snap. Still... Ulaz's scent was doing odd things to him. He didn't even realize it at first, but the cool, buttery scent was soothing him into an almost fugue state. Did Ulaz work this sorcery with all his patients? He watched the physician's smooth, practiced actions through half-lidded eyes, marveling at the easy professional air he wore like a second skin.

"Are you in any pain?"

"Some. Throat hurts."

"It's healing remarkably well. I'm going to take a small blood sample now to check your electrolyte balance. Small prick." Keith winced and watched his dark blood seep into the tiny vial Ulaz held firmly to his bicep. Ulaz smoothed a tiny gauze bandage over the prick.

"I'll also need a urine sample, but this can be completed later. For now, I'm going to palpate your lymph nodes to check for inflammation and infection. Pregnancy drastically lowers Galra immunity. Infections are common in the first cycle and cannot be ignored." There was a snap as Ulaz donned a pair of rubber gloves.

Keith stiffened and braced for the cold, invasive sensation of clammy hands against his skin, but it never came. Ulaz ever so gently prodded his neck, his warm fingers smoothly circling with practiced ease around the front and back. They moved lower and cupped his armpits. Keith jerked as Ulaz moved to his waist and reached under the blanket.

"Shshsh, Kit, settle. I'm not going to harm you in any way."

Keith inhaled shakily, but by the time he exhaled, the doctor had already finished.

"Your lymph nodes show no sign of infection and I don't feel any temperature elevation. These are very strong, positive sign. Now, I'd like you to urinate in a collection jar for me. When you're finished obtaining the sample, I'll be ready for the rest of your exam. I have some equipment to prepare."

Keith gave a jerky nod and hopped off the table. He hesitated, grabbing the sides of the gurney desperately as he waited for his wobbly legs to settle. He disappeared into the medbay's small bathroom with the clear jar Ulaz passed him.

When he returned several minutes later, he balked, instantly freezing at the sight of Shiro talking with Ulaz. The pair were deep in conversation and neither seemed to notice his presence.

"The others are aware of the situation now, but I don't want to share too many details. Keith deserves as much privacy as possible. It's up to him if he wants to share more."

"I concur. Has the Young One contacted her brother yet? I am anxious to share my finding with him for his analysis."

"I'm not sure. Pidge left to comm him, but I haven't seen or heard from her since. I'll let you know what she says."

The raw musk of Keith's fear must have been more potent than he realized. He watched Ulaz's nose give a decisive twitch before turning to face him. He nodded approvingly at the half-filled collection jar and accepted it.

"Keith, I thought it might be comforting if Shiro's was present for the remainder of the examination."

Keith remained silent. He kept trying to look at Shiro's face, but he couldn't bear to see the disappointment he knew must be lurking there. What must Shiro think of him? He'd been a quiznacking idiot. Who accidently gets pregnant during the middle of a fracking space war? With an alien no less? He was slut and now the whole ship, including Ulaz and the Blade would know it.

"Shiro...I'm sor-"

"Keith, I'm sorry."

The pair stared at each other in shock. Their words had come out at the exact same moment, each jumbling over each other in a rushed mess of emotion.

"Shiro, why would you be sorry?"

"I wasn't there for you. I should have been helping... helping you find out what was wrong sooner. Pidge shouldn't have been the one to find you in your room like that."

Keith gave a shaky, crooked smile. He was suddenly so tired. So utterly exhausted. "Not your responsibility," he murmured, head tucked. "M'not a stupid little foster brat you have to babysit anymore."

"You'll always be my responsibility. You're still Keith." Shiro was looking at him with such utter devotion Keith felt his legs wobble. How in space did he deserve this level of love? How was he supposed to accept it? He certainly didn't deserve it.

"Keith, are you alright with Shiro staying for the duration of the exam. His presence will be calming."

Keith nodded absently at Ulaz's words. He kept his gaze fixed on Shiro as he climbed back on the gurney. It didn't occur to him until after he was already lying down that a pair of odd, metal devices were sticking up from the end of the gurney.

 _Oh._

 _Quiznack._

Keith gulped hard against the rising surge of humiliated panic inside him as Ulaz quietly explained what was happening. He couldn't do anything more than lay in utter silence. It was either that or start crying again, and that definitely wasn't an option. His heart was pounding deafeningly in his ears as Ulaz ever so gently picked up his legs one by one and placed them carefully in the stirrups. His touch was slow and warm as if Keith's legs were suddenly the most precious things in the universe. Ulaz kept the blanket tucked around him snuggly, unwilling to reveal any more skin than absolutely necessary. A cold draft hit Keith's bare skin and he began shivering violently on the gurney. It wasn't so much from the cold as his own barely repressed hysteria. Shiro wordlessly placed another blanket over him and stroked his sweaty hair.

"Keith, I'm going to examine your birth canal and take a small tissue sample to test for any sign of infection or inflammation. It will not be painful so much as uncomfortable. If it begins to hurt, tell me immediately."

Ulaz waited until Keith managed a weak nod. He stared up at the tops of his bare knees as Ulaz spread the stirrups further apart. He'd never felt more exposed in his life. Shiro sat with his back to Ulaz, his eyes trained on Keith's face for any sign of new distress or pain.

"Hey, you're doing great, Keith."

"Th-that's not exactly the word I'd use, Sh'ro."

"You're very brave. Give yourself some credit."

"Brave for flashing my crotch to the world."

Shiro gave a gruff chuckle that was anything but humorous. "Not to the world. Just to Ulaz, Keith. To be fair, he's probably seen it all by now—every set of junk imaginable in space."

Keith snorted. "Hope he's enjoying this more than me." His face sudden went tight, his eyes blew wide like a frightened horse's. What was Ulaz doing?! He felt fingers probing inside, testing, searching. Ulaz's touch-although it was obvious he was trying to be gentle-was still nothing but invasive.

"This will be somewhat cold. Just some lubrication to ease the passage of my instruments. How often do you open your passage?"

"P-Passage?"

"Your birth canal. You've used it for propagation. Do you pleasure yourself there at all?" Keith sputtered helplessly, cheeks burning. Ulaz had absolutely no qualms about throwing around words like _"propagation" and "pleasuring yourself."_

"N-No. Not since... well, it happened."

No one questioned the _IT_ in the sentence.

"Roughly 30 quintants then? You're very tight. This will be somewhat more unpleasant than I originally thought. I will be gentle, but I need to open you enough to observe your canal properly."

 _Oh. my. Weblum._

Keith prayed to every deity imaginable that the table would open and swallow him whole. Shiro's hand tightened in his own clammy grip. His grey eyes were soft with sympathy.

"Slight pulling sensation. Take a deep breath, Kit, and let it out slowly." Keith obeyed and tried and failed to hold back a gasp at the pulling sensation inside him. Ulaz was using something to physically spread him open. It kept pulling, stretching. Keith feared it would never stop.

"I'm inserting a small scope to view your passage. I'm nearly finished. Stay as calm as you can, Keith. You're doing marvelously." Ulaz's face disappeared from view behind the sheet covering Keith's legs.

Together, Keith and Shiro listened to Ulaz hum and sigh thoughtfully as he stared through the scope. Keith could only imagine what the doctor was staring at. Surely nothing pleasant.

"I'm inserting a small probe to take the tissue sample then I will be finished with this portion of the exam."

 _This portion? Oh,_ _hell there was more!?_

Something narrow and cold suddenly touched his insides. There was a decisive, tugging snap and Keith arched off the table, his legs wobbling violently in the stirrups. Shiro took his arms gently in his hands even as Ulaz froze. Keith winced at the loud moan he couldn't keep back.

 _What a wuss... Shiro wouldn't have cried out._

"I'm removing the stretcher now," Ulaz interrupted, tugging Keith out of his own dark self-condemnation. "Deep breath. In and out, please."

Keith complied, nearing tears at the reassurance that Ulaz had finally finished. Everything below his hips throbbed. Keith watched in a daze as Ulaz placed a what looked like a giant Q-tip into a specimen tube. The end was stained bright pink.

"I'd like to perform a brief ultrasound to view the fetuses. I'll be able to see how many young you're carrying and view their development."

Keith's legs were gently lowered, the blankets tucked about him securely as though he was the baby in question. He sighed in utter relief when he felt the warmness of the blankets sheltering his legs again. Ulaz rolled a small cart over to the gurney and hesitated.

"Keith, are you okay with this final exam. We can stop if this is proving too overwhelming."

Too overwhelming? This had gone above and beyond that point long ago. Better to just get everything over with.

"No, s'fine. Just do it," he breathed. Ulaz nodded and carefully pulled the gown down to Keith's hips, arranging the gown and blankets just so. Keith stared down at his pale stomach. It looked flat. Was there really a living thing growing inside him? It certainly didn't look like it.

A dollop of cold blue gel landed on his lower stomach. Ulaz spread it liberally in slow, deliberate circles with a white wand-like instrument. Above the cart, a holographic screen flickered into view. Keith stared at it unblinkingly. Staticky fuzz flashed, but nothing else. Ulaz kept rotating the wand, pressing harder in certain areas. The screen gradually grew clearer. After a small eternity, Ulaz finally stopped, the wand resting just below Keith's belly button. Three dark ovals glowed on the screen, tiny pulsating vibrations in each center.

"Three heart beats," Ulaz murmured.

* * *

Pidge stared blankly at the comm screen. Mentally, she'd already rehearsed her well-practiced plea for help more times than she could count. To be fair, she could count pretty darn high. Even with all her practice she was no closer to figuring out exactly what she was supposed to say to her brother.

 _Hey, so Keith kinda got pregnant somehow..._

 _Did you know Galra are intersex? Cool right?!_

 _How's your anatomy and physiology smarticles holding up? Feel like a challenge?_

 _How do you feel about a bunch of half-human half-galra babies? Cute right?_

 _Help, Maaaaatttt! Pleeeeaaase!_

Yeah, nothing was really holding up as a genuine plea for help. Everything sounded phony. Pathetic. Fake. Nothing that would make Matt feel remotely inclined to drag himself out of whatever Rebel base he was squirreled up in and travel thousands of miles across space.

Pidge allowed herself exactly one deep breath to settle her clamoring nerves. She pressed 'call' and stared back at the screen rebelliously. Keith needed help. He deserved it. She would say or do whatever it took to get it for him.

Even if it meant freaking/ticking her brother off royally.

"Pidgy!" Matt stifled an obnoxiously huge yawn, scrubbing his eyes slowly. He grinned back at her sleepily.

Oh, crap! What time was it there? She'd completely forgotten about the concept of time changes. Castle Time didn't always correlate well with other planets, especially if they were far away.

"What's up?"

"Crud, what time is it? Did I wake you up?"

"Naw... you're good. I was napping. Pulled an all-nighter with my team last night. Had a major deadline breathing up our butts. Experimental Rebel weaponry waits for no man... er alien."

"Weaponry?" Pidge didn't even bother stifling her curiosity. Matt was up to his ears in arguably the coolest tech in history. He was fairly hush-hush about his countless projects for the Rebel Coalition but the tidbits and whispered clues he purposely dropped for her always blew her mind. She wasn't jealous... much...

"How'd it go? Everything work?"

Matt blew a loud long whistle that made Pidge wince. "It was absolutely a thing of beauty. Pretty sure one of my guys peed himself in excitement. Personally, I'm just happy the thing didn't go nuclear on us and toast us like a pack of marshmallows!"

Pidge giggled in spite of herself. Matt smirked back and gave an over-exaggerated eyebrow arch. He looked nothing like the corny cartoon villains they used to watch.

"Now, my precious, amazingly geeky little sister...what can I do for you? Tech problems? I swear if Lance screwed up the Castle's systems with his stupid video game console again!"

"No, not tech. Everything's working perfect. Er... for now anyway. I don't want to jinx it."

"Space Mice problem again? Did you ever figure out which one chewed through those wires? Lucky little rat. Could've fried itself to a crisp!"

"NO! And I'm still mad they haven't confessed yet! It's like they all swore an oath of secrecy or something. They'd never tattle on each other. There haven't been any nibbled wires since though."

Matt frowned quizzically. "So what's up, Katie. You look off—like you just heard the worse news of your life off."

"It's not the worse news I've ever heard per say. It's just not something I know how to tell you. I need your help."

Matt made a "come-on" gesture, angling his head expectantly. "Hit me with your best shot."

"Keith's pregnant. Somehow he got pregnant during his time with the Blades. Ulaz is helping, but he wants a human doctor helping out too since he's not familiar with human pregnancy. I kinda sorta volunteered you."

Pidge blurted out the whole messy confession in a single, frantic breath. She sat gasping when she finally finished, her eyes noticeably averted from her brother's. She could only imagine what his face looked like.

There was a half-a-tick hesitation. "Sweet quiznack," he finally breathed, eyes closed.

Pidge cringed. Yeah, that was about what she had expected.

"Well, I'll admit I wasn't expecting that. I feel like I should apologize. No idea why, but I honestly have no clue what you expect me to say, Pidge."

"Can you help? This is insane. Yeah, it's kinda cool. I mean Galra hybrid babies! Hermaphroditic features! Male pregnancy!" She made an explosion gesture with her fingers on either side of her head. "Come on, this is like how many scientific discoveries all rolled into one?!"

"Keith's hermaphroditic then?" Matt pressed. His face had gone worryingly flat in what could only be described as the galaxy's best poker face.

"Apparently, Galra are intersex. Ulaz explained that their race is sub-divided into three secondary sexes for mating. Keith's male, but his secondary Galra traits let him get pregnant. He had no idea. He ran away from the Blades because he must have known something was wrong, but he had no clue about the pregnancy until Ulaz told him. He's been as sick as a dog since he got back. I'm guessing it's really bad morning sickness or something. He tore his esophagus cause he was puking so bad."

"Hyperemesis gravidarum," Matt intoned thoughtfully.

"Hyper-what?"

"Hyperemesis gravidarum. It's an extreme form of morning sickness. Pretty rare, but it can happen during the first trimester. It can cause some pretty severe complications if not treated."

Pidge blinked. She felt completely and utterly justified about recommending Matt's help—he was already spouting-off pregnancy facts.

"So you'll help? I mean, you obviously know about pregnancy stuff. You just explained morning sickness."

"Pidge. I'm a scientist not a doctor. You shouldn't have volunteered me without asking. I have no clue how to manage a hybrid pregnancy!"

"You studied medicine for the Kerberos!"

"So I would know how to watch out for and treat infections, radiation poisoning and dozens of other possible accidents!" Matt instantly corrected her. "I'm a genius, but last time I checked I still don't have a medical license! Besides," Matt's voice went dark. "With all the testing and experiments the Galra put us through—what Ulaz put us through—I would think he would have more than enough knowledge about human physiology to keep Keith healthy."

"Ulaz wasn't trying to hurt you guys," Pidge whispered. "You know that was Haggar, not him."

"Still, he should be plenty comfortable with human anatomy. You can thank Shiro's vivisections for that. Has he not shown you the scars!?"

Pidge bit back a sob. She couldn't cry right now. She didn't have that luxury. Keith was the only one that should have crying rights. This was too overwhelming though! She needed to fix this. She knew enough to know with certainty that there was no easy cure—no Band-Aid they could slap over this.

"Ulaz probably knows plenty, but last time I checked neither you, dad, or Shiro were pregnant or giving birth when you were prisoners. He has nothing about human pregnancy to go off of. He knows what's normal and right for a Galra pregnancy but not a human's."

The pair went silent. Pidge curled in on herself and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. The distance between them felt so much further in that moment. She didn't look at the screen. The silence kept dragging on. Pidge feared it would never end. However, the idea of Matt ending their conversation was far more frightening.

"Have Ulaz send me whatever info he's got on Keith... vitals, scans, the whole enchilada. I'll look it all over and see if I can make heads or tails of it. I'm not even sure what I should be looking for, though."

"Whatever's normal in a healthy pregnancy I guess. Doctors check hormone levels, right?"

"That's just it. Keith's male. He shouldn't be synthesizing these hormones in high levels. Human chorionic gonadotropin, estrogen, and progesterone are all primarily female hormones. HCG is exclusively for pregnancy. His body shouldn't be able to manufacture these hormones in high levels, especially not the levels required for a healthy pregnancy."

"He's half alien," Pidge dead-panned.

Matt heaved a weary sigh, ran his fingers through his shaggy mop of hair, and puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. "Yeah, I'm getting the idea."

* * *

 **A/N: Not- so- fun-fact... Hyperemesis gravidarum is actually a real condition ;)**

 **Leave a word if you enjoyed!**


	7. The New Norm'

**A/N: Special thanks to Sabrinabella for the friendly kick-in-the-pants to get this next chapter up. I start nursing school in a little over a week so life's been a complete and utter train wreck trying to get ready. Sadly, this meant little time for writing :( I'll do my best from here on out.**

* * *

Keith crept down the hallway, shooting furtive glances over his shoulder. He kept imagining footsteps, breathing, voices. When had he become this paranoid? He felt eyes watching him. Analyzing. Searching. A shiver rattled through him at the invasive sense of vulnerability Ulaz's exam had created. It had been hours since the cringe-worthy exam and ultrasound, but the humiliation and confusion was still fresh and sour.

It was too late for this crap! Keith mentally shouted. By Castle Time is was just after 1:30 in the morning. Everyone else was fast asleep. A soft stillness hung over the ship save for the faint rumblings of the machinery and gentle drone of the power crystal. It should have been peaceful, but the tension oozing in the pit of Keith's stomach bubbled and simmered with fresh heat.

He wanted his nest. Mentally, he pictured the careful spread of blankets and pillows. His chest throbbed with a nameless longing he couldn't quite describe. His nest meant safety. Privacy. Shelter-everything that had been stolen from him. He should be buried in his blankets cuddling with Shiro's jacket, not sneaking through the Castle because he was too embarrassed to talk to anyone!

Keith wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. He needed to calm down. Ulaz had already given him a grim warning about his stress levels. Anxiety wasn't healthy for a safe pregnancy. What did Keith know about safe pregnancies, though? What did he know about pregnancies period?

The kitchen was empty and stark. Hunk had no doubt been going to town with his cleaning schedule. He was known to stress-clean when his anxiety was particularly high. By the looks of the sparkling counters and floors, he'd been frantic sometime recently.

Keith cracked open the Altean equivalent of a refrigerator and peered inside. Colorful containers sat stacked neatly on the shelves. Most were raw ingredients Hunk had scavenged from their recent planet visits. His stomach gurgled demandingly. Ulaz had pumped him so full of anti-emetics Keith seriously doubted whether he even possessed a gag reflex anymore.

The physician had warned him that he needed to start eating again soon. He was already far too lean. He simply didn't have any fat to lose. His BMI had crept below 18 with no sign of stopping. The three tiny passengers in his belly would starve if he didn't seriously up his calorie intake. Keith frowned at the memory of the earlier lecture. After murmuring careful warnings about the threat of severe muscle atrophy, miscarriage, and organ failure, Ulaz had gently warned that he'd place Keith on a semi-permanent feeding tube if he couldn't start getting the proper nutrients and calories on his own. If he continued throwing up even with the anti-emetics, he'd get the tube for sure.

Hence, Keith's middle-of-the-night kitchen raid.

Honestly, Keith didn't feel like eating. He was scared to death to even try after the agony of his torn esophagus. He never wanted to puke again. Still, the idea of a feeding tube was just as frightening if not more so. He had to try eating again. There weren't any other options.

It wasn't even like he was eating for himself anymore.

 _Three heartbeats..._

Keith clenched his eyes shut and gritted his teeth so hard he feared they'd crack. The fuzzy ultrasound screen flashed in his brain hauntingly.

 _Three...No, don't think now. Don't think. Just eat. You can eat. You can do this._

A pink container stood out at the bottom of the shelf. Keith peered inside and was rewarded by what looked like macaroni and cheese. It looked soft enough for his raw throat to manage. He sniffed it suspiciously. There was no macaroni and cheese in space! What was this?

"It's actually pretty good. Little salty, but Hunk is Space Master Chef—as usual. Totally knocked it out of the park."

Keith felt himself jump at least a foot in the air. He whirled around and found himself face-to-face with Lance.

The boy was wearing his silky bathrobe and lion slippers, but he wasn't sporting his usual devil-may-care smirk. He looked noticeably quiet and withdrawn.

Holy quiznack… Was Lance acting shy?

"Good to see you, you know up and about. We didn't know when you'd be out of the medbay," he murmured, eyes downcast.

"I was getting stir-crazy. Couldn't sleep. I'm supposed to try eating again soon so..." Keith gestured to the kitchen.

"Are-are you okay? I mean, you're not bleeding anymore or anything?"

"No, Ulaz said the tear's healing."

Silence hung heavy. Keith studied Lance's slippers. He felt a surprising twinge of jealously. He wanted slippers...

"So, you got knocked-up by an alien?" Lance instantly went red, sputtering and waving his hands.Â "I-I'm sooo sorry. That came out way wrong!"

Keith gave a snort of amusement.

"Don't apologize—you're basically right."

"Is...is weird. Like do you feel... different?"

Lance looked so utterly lost and desperate for understanding that Keith didn't have the heart to be angry at his questions. He supposed he should get used to the awkward questions. He'd be enduring this for two more trimesters.

"No, I mean, it's not like they're big enough to feel them. I had no clue until Ulaz told me." He went hot with embarrassment.

This was so.

Quiznacking.

Weird.

"I thought it was just a stomach flu. Until the blood and all that starting happening."

He placed a hand on his belly gingerly. It still felt utterly flat.

"It's stupid and weird, but I think I'm honestly okay with them. I mean, I don't hate them. They didn't ask to be made. They're just... there."

"Holy quiznack! We're actually having an intelligent conversation. You know without all the screaming and yelling we usually add." Lance shot him a rueful grin.

"Wanna plate of this? I'll feel stupid eating alone."

Lance nodded and sprawled out at the table. He silently watched Keith prepare two plates of the pseudo-macaroni and cheese. A question was niggling him. He tried and failed to keep it from wiggling free.

"Keith, do _they_ know?"

"They? Who's they?"

"The... other parent? I mean, I probably shouldn't be asking this. Do they even know they're a parent? You can punch me if you want. Just not on my face or anywhere else visible, please."

"No."

"Will you tell them?"

"No."

* * *

Shiro couldn't sleep.

It wasn't regular nightmares keeping him awake and panting. He was used to the heart-pounding montage of blood, sweat, and sand that usually clouded his sleep. The gladiator arena would be forever burned into his brain. He could deal with waking up in a cold sweat on a regular basis, his muscles rigid and his teeth gritted.

It was hellish, but it was manageable, particularly when Allura was lying beside him. Her vanilla-sweet skin was always cool and fresh to the touch—a far-cry from the hot, clammy blood-crusted skin of his dreams. Her soft breathing could inexplicably drown out his thundering heart and lull him back to sleep. Even when his flashbacks were particularly severe, her soft questioning voice was an anchor in the tremulous shadow of reality. She never asked what was terrifying him so badly; instead, she seemed content to wait as Shiro silenced the stomach-churning worms of panic threading paths across his consciousness. She seemed to possess an odd intuition that knew exactly when to back off and give him privacy. His screams and violent thrashing didn't deter her. Her Altean physiology was more than strong enough to pin his wild punches and scratching fingers to keep him from hurting himself or her when the panic gripped him too tight.

Yes, he could deal with his night terrors and PTSD.

What he couldn't deal with was the 18-year old hybrid teenager sleeping down the hall. The boy that he'd taken under his wing over 5 years ago at the Garrison. The same one that he'd kept from being expelled more times than he could count.

His little brother for all intents and purposes. His _pregnant_ little brother. The little brother that was still hurting and hiding a trove of pain and secrets. Did Keith not trust him? Was he afraid of getting lectured? Punished? Keith had looked so terrified under Ulaz's touch in the infirmary. He'd seemed genuinely shocked to find out Shiro wasn't furious with him.

Shiro heaved a sigh, weariness bleeding through him like poison.

He quietly padded out of his room, reluctantly leaving Allura's tranquil body still snuggled in his warm, messy bed. He ran a hand through his shaggy forelock and stifled a shaky sigh. It was too early for this.

He'd awoken with a familiar surge of panic, sweat clinging to his skin in a cold sheen. It wasn't from Zarkon's Arena this time, though. For once, he hadn't had a single nightmare about his Gladiator days. Instead, he'd thrashed awake with vivid images of a screaming, bloody Keith. The haunting images clung to his brain like barbs and refused to let go. Keith had been in labor, gasping for air and pleading for Shiro to make it all stop. To save him.

Shiro felt his gut churn with nausea. The scariest part of his nightmare was the unnerving prophetic tone it'd possessed. It felt like foretelling of horrors to come. Keith would be in labor in six months. If all went well, he'd be delivering three tiny hybrid babies into their war-torn existence. They had six months to prepare Keith and themselves for 3 infants for life aboard in a battleship.

Shiro froze, his shaky hand swiping out desperately for the support of the wall. He might actually get sick now. He had no business thinking such dark thoughts. He couldn't help it, though. He saw hundreds of worse-case scenarios leering out him from the darkest corners of his mind. There were too many things that could go wrong; too many instances where he would have no way to save Keith.

 _Patience yields focus..._

How many times had he told Keith those exact same words? He muttered them to himself and forced himself to take a deep, fortifying breath. There was no way he could help Keith now if he couldn't even keep his own fears and emotions under control. The memory of Keith's drawn, panicky face following Ulaz's exam hit him like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. No, he couldn't allow himself the luxury of fear now, not when Keith needed his confidence and reassurance more than ever.

The door to the training room slid open and Shiro stepped inside only to freeze at the ridiculous display that greeted him.

Keith was dodging and ducking the savage onslaught of the Gladiator. The robot was bearing down on him violently, its blows just barely missing Keith. The boy flipped out of the way at the last possible second and drove his dagger upward in a deadly strike. The robot hesitated a half tick as the blade hit home. With a reluctant whine, the machine powered down, sagging to the floor. Keith turned, a triumphant smile on his sweaty, haggard face. His eyes met Shiro's wide-eyed look of horror and all hell broke loose.

* * *

Pidge sat slumped in her chair at the breakfast table, fiddling with the suspicious stack of floppy _Not-Pancakes_ Hunk had served them. The _Not-Pancakes_ were mocking her. They were most definitely NOT the flapjacks her mother used to serve her and Matt ever Saturday. For one thing, her mother's pancakes were never ever purple! Hunk hadn't really explained why their breakfast was purple. It didn't seem to concern him or the others. They were happily munching away, passing a small pitcher of sticky syrup around the table. Pidge narrowed her eyes when the syrup finally reached her. She began pouring only to freeze in horror when she spotted the green gooey messy drizzling down onto her plate.

"What the frickin' quiznack!"

"Language!" Coran chirped back at her. He sliced his towering stack of Not-Pancakes with gusto. Pidge pushed her plate away bad-temperedly and watched as the mice descended upon her unwanted breakfast, squeaking and cheering with glee. She didn't care.

"Where's Shiro?"

Lace looked up at her from his plate dully. He was definitely lacking his usual early-morning sass. Usually, he was already at full-blown obnoxious. Now, he just seemed shut-off and quiet like all his playfulness and charm had been sucked dry.

"Haven't seen him. Probably still training or checking on Keith."

"No, neither were in the sick bay when I went to check this morning," Coran pointed out. He tugged his mustache anxiously. "I was quite surprised. Keith really shouldn't be up and about quite yet."

"Shiro left early this morning. He was having difficulty sleeping... well, _more_ difficulty than usual. He's understandably quite concerned for Keith no doubt," Allura remarked. She broke off a slice of colorful fruit from her plate and held it out for her mice.

Pidge arched an eyebrow in concern. Normally, Allura loved meal times if only to faun over her precious space rats and feed them the best scraps possible. She didn't look excited in the least now, though. If anything, she looked blatantly distracted, even irritable. The mice seemed to take the hint. Only one braved their mistress's quiet, dark mood for the fruit. The others all hung back and enjoyed the safety and easy accessibility of Pidge's heaping, abandoned plate.

"Where's Ulaz?" Allura asked. She shot Coran a tight look. "Is he in the sick bay working?"

"Yes, I spotted him there early this morning when I first went to check. He was searching for Keith as well. He didn't seem pleased."

Coran's words were oddly prophetic given the loud scuffle that burst into the room.

"I wasn't in any danger! It was only level 4!"

"You had no business sparring in your condition! Do you have any idea what a blow could do to you right now? How badly you could get hurt!?"

"Shiro is correct, Kit. You were well-aware of my warning to avoid training. Even a small hit could prove catastrophic for you and your young."

"I know that level like the back of my hand. I had to do something! I'm bored out of my skull. I haven't trained in days!"

"You are forbidden from training with the Gladiator. You can't risk it!"

"I concur. Perhaps we could contemplate safer, lower-impact training activities in the future once you've regained a suitable amount of weight."

"The quiznack I am!"

Pidge sat stock-still watching the verbal onslaught playing out in front of them. Neither Keith, Shiro, or Ulaz seemed completely aware that their entire conversation was being overheard by the entire dining room. Eyes were flashing and tempers flaring as the three took turns posturing and vying for dominance. Shiro and Ulaz had teamed up, but Keith was still holding his own right up until Ulaz's hand clamped down on the juncture of his neck.

"Settle, Kit," he growled.

A mental image of a mother cat scuffing her kitten by the neck instantly shot across Pidge's mind. _Space Cats!_

"You need assistance caring for yourself. You will receive help." Keith's rebellion visibly crumpled. His body seemed to go limp where he stood, eyes downcast and miserable. Exhaustion oozed from him—not just the physical kind either.

Coran gave an absurdly loud cough, a nervous chuckle creeping into his voice. "Good morning! I trust you three are hungry!? Hunk concocted the most amazing breakfast treat for us. I believe he calls them _Pan-cakes_. You really must try some. Here, sit, Keith, while I fetch you a plate!"

Pidge watched Keith collapse into his chair, his face instantly sinking into the cradle his arms. He didn't look up, not even when the mice went skittering over to say 'hi.'

Shiro silently took his seat next to Allura while Ulaz filled a vacant chair on Keith's right. The table had gone coldly silent in tense anticipation.

Coran sat the plate down with a flourish, drizzling a ridiculous amount of syrup over the top. Keith didn't respond. His face was still tucked out of sight.

"Keith, come on, you need to eat, buddy."

Shiro's anger had already dissipated. In its place, a quiet tremble of concern had evolved.

"Your young require you to eat."

Ulaz's reminder didn't seem to have an effect either. Keith's face remained buried miserably in his arms.

Pidge waited half-a-tick before heaving a loud, annoyed sigh. _To quiznack_ _with this!_ She was utterly and completely done with the drama! Everyone could stay in their sad, pathetic little bubbles and angst all over themselves, but she wasn't having it. Not anymore! Not when there was far too much at stake for Team Voltron to shut down over an accidental pregnancy.

"Keith, open up for the frickin' airplane!"

Pidge sliced off a chunk of _Not Pancake_ and scooped it up into the air with a swirl. She rolled her tongue long and loud, secretly pleased at her sound effect skills. Matt would love it! Keith's head finally jerked up, no doubt more out of confusion than anything else, mouth half-ajar. He was still frowning in consternation when Pidge popped the bite into his mouth. He blinked, stunned.

She chuckled with fiendish glee and prepared a second bite, but Keith had finally caught wind of her scheme. Lance and Hunk were too busy laughing to hear the dark Galran oath Keith muttered under his breath. Coran, Allura, and Ulaz all wore matching frowns of confusion at the show Pidge had put on. Shiro was smiling softly with amusement, shaking his head slightly.

"You ready to eat now, or do I need to keep baby-feeding you?" Keith narrowed his eyes and swiped the fork away from her roughly.

"I feel sick."

"Yeah, too bad 'cause you've got three munchkins in your belly that say otherwise."

"Fine!" Keith chomped down savagely on a bite and glared back at Pidge hotly. She stared back, a half-smile edging the corner of her mouth upward. Never mind "breaking the ice." She'd officially shattered it!

"Bet you can't finish the whole plate."

"I accept your bet and I raise you seconds!" Keith grunted around a mouthful.

"I want in on that action, but only if Keith takes a mug of hot chocolate too!" Hunk was nearly beside himself with excitement. He was already racing to the kitchen for a fresh mug of the chocolate-like drink he'd brewed that morning with some questionable chemistry techniques.

"I see Keith's plate of seconds and Hunk's hot chocolate and I raise you all a bowl of that creepy pink fruit Allura's eating!" Lance crowed, banging his fork on the table with gusto.

An hour later, Keith had managed his plate of seconds, hot chocolate, and fruit with an impressive level of dedication. He'd eaten slowly and carefully, taking breaks at Ulaz's instance to make sure his stomach and throat could handle it. More than once, the doctor had offered to go get him a dose of anti-emetics, but Keith had staunchly refused, claiming he felt fine. He'd trooped on stoically, finally scraping his plate clean and leaning back in his chair, eyes drooping sleepily.

"I won your bet," he muttered with a rueful grin. Pidge grinned and began polishing her glasses cockily. Yep, her work here was done.

For now.

A/N: Leave a word if you like. Thanks for the fav's, follows, and comments... they definitely keep me motivated to write! 3


	8. Manner of Living

Keith had officially been a parent for three days.

No, that wasn't entirely accurate, he decided grudgingly. The three quiet little passengers inside his belly had existed over 30 quintants according to Ulaz's exam. Still, did all that time really count if he hadn't even known the tiny things were there?

Keith lay insipidly in his nest, mentally listing ever excuse he could muster to avoid the hell that involved getting up.

 _Tired..._

 _Don't want to eat..._

 _Tired..._

 _Don't want to talk..._

 _Still tired..._

 _Don't want to hear another lecture (Stupid Shiro, stupid Ulaz)..._

 _Why am I so tired..._

Keith let a hand trail over his lower stomach. It was still worrisomely flat. The hard bulge of his hipbones on either side made him wince. He shouldn't be this thin. Guilt stabbed at him like tiny cockroaches burrowing beneath his skin. He was already such a bad parent and the kits hadn't even been born yet. Parents didn't starve their little ones.

It was that single realization that drove him to stagger out of his nest and slouch his way over to his closet. He hesitated and cast a wistful look over his shoulder at the nest. He'd managed to transport the whole thing from the medbay back to his room; he was ridiculously proud of himself—not that he'd ever share the triumph with the others. They had no idea how critical this nest was to him. He could only assume his obsession with the nest related to his Galra instincts. There was no other logical explanation for why a messy pile of blankets and clothes seemed so important to him.

Silently, he pulled one of Shiro's baggy t-shirts from the chaotic pile of clothes lining the nest and wriggled it over his dark t-shirt. His nerves rattled like the old windchime outside his father's house. The mental clamor made his skin crawl with nauseating anticipation. He didn't want to see the others to see him. The worry and concern on their faces did nothing but drive his guilt deeper like a hammer pounding a nail. He couldn't even take care of himself. What right did he have to take care of three helpless kits?

 _Three..._

The number sounded bigger every time he said it, like a hallow death knell echoing inside his skull. He'd always heard one infant was overwhelming to brand new parents. What was he supposed to do with three? He swayed slightly, leaning up against the door to catch his breath. He went to touch his stomach again, but his hand drew back in fear. They were such small, helpless things inside of him. Why were they this terrifying?

His bedroom door slid open and he forced himself forward with a zombie-like, shuffle. He nearly fell flat on his face. With a muffled curse of pain, he glared down at the box sitting proudly in front of his door. He huffed in a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

Five minutes later something like a laugh managed to break through his shell of misery. He sat cross-legged in front of his treasure chest ogling at the stash of goodies inside. Vivid orange baggies of the alien version of _Cheetos_ flashed up at him along with an impressive display of other snacks, candies, and drinks. Many of the baggies were filled with homemade treats Hunk had whipped-up to replace their beloved earth snacks. Chocolate chip cookies. Granola bars. Trail mix. Hunk's large messy writing graced a wrinkled note at the very top.

 _ **Hey!**_

 _ **I know eating is like a nightmare right now (especially in front of everyone) so I thought you'd like your own personal snack stash (see what I did there with the alliteration?! :p) Anyhooo, enjoy your goodies. They're the perfect thing for gaining weight. Trust me, bro, I know whereof I speak when it comes to weight. My sister-in-law had super bad morning sickness too. I remember her saying that small meals throughout the day (especially sugary ones) help keep the pukes away. I don't know for sure if it'll help (not like I've ever been pregnant) but I thought maybe you'd like to give it a try.**_

 _ **See you later! ;D**_

 _ **Hunk**_

Keith's felt himself grinning like an idiot at the haphazard note. His eyes fell on a smooshed section of handwriting at the very bottom of the note. He had to squint to make it all out.

 _ **KEITH,**_

 _ **I saw you totally eyeing-up my slippers the other day. Pervert JK ;) I hunted these suckers down**_ _**for you. You're welcome.**_

~~ _ **Lance Eduardo-Martinez McClain.**_

Of course the idiot had signed his full name. Keith dug through the pile of snacks and baggies and guffawed in shock at the fluffy red lion slippers sitting at the bottom of the box. He petted one of the fuzzy ears almost reverently, not entirely convinced that they actually belonged to him. He couldn't even picture himself wearing them. He'd never worn slippers before. Growing up before the garrison, he'd been lucky if he even managed to scare-up a pair of raggedy socks, let alone clean ones. He'd never owned anything like these slippers before.

Hesitantly, he eyed his bare feet only to blink in disbelieving shock. Were his ankles puffy? They seemed bigger than usual. No, that couldn't be right! To test his theory, he rushed back inside and grabbed his boots. He managed to slip the first one on, but his ankles and feet were practically screaming with pain. Why were his boots so tight!?

Keith gave a disbelieving huff of frustration and eyed his feet uncertaintly. He wasn't going to breakfast with barefeet. Allura would lecture him on propriety and Lance would start making stupid cracks about stinky feet. No, bare feet weren't an option.

Silently, Keith looked over his shoulder at the box still sitting in his doorway. The red lion slippers were sitting proudly on top, their dark eyes gleaming. He closed his eyes and exhaled long and low.

When he stalked into the dining room ten minutes later he dove into his seat as quickly as possible and kept his feet carefully hidden beneath the privacy of the table. His secret didn't last for long. Lance strutted into the room several moments later, yawning obscenely and giving a spine-snapping stretch on his way over to the table. The boy blatantly bent down and peered beneath the table, humming loudly to himself.

"Ah-haaa!" he crowed. "You _are_ wearing them!"

"My feet were cold."

Lance was grinning jubilantly. He puffed out his chest proudly and shot Keith two finger-guns. "Hey, I don't judge. Don't be ashamed of comfort. Do what you need to, bro." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Besides," he whispered. "I've always heard slippers are good for pregnancy... you know when your feet and ankles get all swollen and fat and you can't wear shoes anymore."

Keith felt all the blood in his body rush to his face even as his gut plummeted to the floor.

"What! My ankles are not gonna get fat!"

Shiro entered the room at the exact moment the panicky words flew out of Keith's mouth. Lance's hands shot up apologetically in the universal sign for surrender.

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to scare you!"

"I'm not scared!" Keith shrieked.

Shiro was at his side in flash, eyes soft and forehead wrinkled in concern.

"Keith, it's okay. The swelling doesn't happen to every moth—" Shiro's voice trailed off, his face going a betraying shade of pink. "I mean, it may not be an issue with you, okay. We can talk to Ulaz about it if it is."

"M'fine," Keith growled. Shiro didn't look convinced.

"Keith! Did you find your stash?" Hunk's warm, sunshiny voice broke the tension like a hot knife through butter. Keith looked up and shyly met his easy grin.

"Yeah, thanks, Hunk. It-it was really nice of you," he murmured.

"Lemme know when you start running low. I'll give you a refill." Hunk shot him a thumbs-up and a wink.

Keith felt his anxiety settle, Lance's ominous warning about swollen ankles settled to the back of his mind. There was no way he'd ever admit that Lance was right. Instead, he wiggled his toes in his slippers and forced himself to breath slower. He could do this. He could stay and eat breakfast and stop freaking out. He could be around everyone without having a meltdown.

"Good morning, Paladins. I trust you had a pleasant sleep."

 _Oh. Crap._

Keith's heart sped up again at the sight of Allura sailing proudly into the dining room. Her dress was smooth and flowing and her hair laying proudly across her shoulders like a fluffy halo. Her eyes fell on Keith and he watched them narrow slightly. He knew no one else could have seen it, but the tiny needle of hostility was still there. He was certain of it. He kept his eyes tucked downward as she coolly stepped over to Shiro's side and planted a small peck on his forehead.

"How are you feeling, Keith?" She didn't even look at him.

"M'fine."

Allura didn't press the issue. It was clear she had no desire.

Coran's arrival to the dining room was loud and over-enthusiastic as per the norm. The mice scurried down his arms and raced for the bowls of fruit already sitting at each place setting. The advisor was rattling off a list of responsibilities and chores for the day in addition to a new training schedule he wanted to implement. The room was quickly filled with the usual chatter and questions, but Keith kept himself curled inward and quiet. He sipped at his glass of juice and picked at the fruit. Hunk was racing back and forth from the kitchen, finishing up whatever surprise he'd managed to concoct.

Keith ignored the pulling sensation in his gut. He debated heading off to the sick bay for a new dose of anti-emetics. Ulaz would no doubt already be there. The physician practically lived there now. He spent the majority of his time pouring over scans and lab readouts taken at Keith's last check-up. Ulaz was researching him, studying him with a passion that scared Keith just a little. He knew the doctor was only trying to help, but he still felt violated. Ulaz would know every aspect of his body by the time this was all over.

Keith's gaze jerked up at the shuffle beside him. Pidge sat down next to him with a sleepy grin.

"Hey, how are you feeling, Space Cat? And don't say _'m'fine_ '! You literally always say that and it's complete and utter bull."

Keith opened his mouth, but froze. He'd been about to answer that exact phrase. What else was he supposed to say?

"Um. Okay? I'm okay."

Pidge rolled her eyes but smiled gently.

"Glad you're up. Did you get the goodies from Hunk and Lance?"

"Yeah, I almost broke my neck tripping over the box."

Pidge bent down and peered under the table, giggling unashamedly.

"Nice slippers. I'm a little jealous now."

Keith smirked despite himself. "Ask Lance. He's like the official slipper-supplier now or something."

"I might just do that."

Hunk cruised into the dining room carrying two plates on each arm like an honest-to-goodness waiter. He set each one down with a flourish, grinning proudly. "I present for your culinary enjoyment Eggs Benedict a' la-Hunk."

The room went silent as the group tucked into their steaming dishes. Allura and Coran, in particular, were especially engrossed in the new dish. Judging by their quizzical frowns and careful poking and prodding Eggs Benedict wasn't something they were familiar with. Still, after several bites, it was obvious they were hooked.

Keith stared down at his plate quietly. He'd never had Eggs Benedict on earth before. Who knew what the space version was like.

"It's good, Keith. Kinda like a lemony-mustard taste. A little sweet too." Shiro smiled encouragingly and gave a reassuring nod. Keith frowned and took the tiniest of bites. He wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. It didn't taste exactly how he'd expected, but it wasn't bad though.

"Good morning."

The deep rumbling voice made everyone sit up just a little straighter, even Allura. Ulaz strode into the room with a respectful nod, taking his place across from Keith. He eyed the breakfast plates questioningly and silently took a bite from his own. Hunk was practically frozen in anticipation as he waited for a response.

"It is pleasing to the taste."

Hunk gave a fist-pump.

"Success. I found something everyone actually likes! Interspecies cuisine for the win!"

"Did you watch the file I sent you?" Keith's ears swiveled immediately toward Lance's voice, but he didn't look up.

"Yes, I found it most intriguing. Is this something all humans practice?"

Ulaz's voice was its usual smooth rumble, but it sounded much lighter with genuine interest."

"Oh, yeah, everyone's doing it now. They've got live-streaming web channels and everything. It's all over the internet." Keith wanted to look up and stare at Lance, but he didn't want to appear too obvious and nosey. What in space was the boy talking about? What had he shown Ulaz?

"I understand there are multiple positions to try. Are some more pleasurable than others?"

Keith's ears went rigid and his head shot up in horror. What the-?! Was Lance showing Ulaz... _porn!_?

 _The Quiznack!_

"I have several questions, but I believe you're right in your theory that Keith would find it enjoyable. It should be safe enough, even in his condition. He would benefit from the stretching."

"I'm not doing it!" Keith blurted out. For some reason, his cheeks were on fire. He glared at Shiro. Why was he allowing them to discuss this? And at the breakfast table of all places?!

"Of course, you'll have to do it with Keith until he gains the necessary experience. Perhaps you can demonstrate the proper positions," Ulaz went on smoothly.

"I'm not quizknack'ing doing it!" Keith screeched.

The entire table went silent. Hunk actually pause mid-bite, his fork dangling awkwardly in the air.

"Calm down!' Lance exclaimed. He made an appeasing gesture with his hands as though trying to quiet a skittish animal. "It's just yoga I promise. It's not even the extreme stuff-not the crazy stuff that makes you look like a pretzel. Just the basics. You can't officially train or spar because of you-" Lance gave a vague swiping gesture over his stomach. "I thought this would be a fun replacement. I mean, don't get me wrong; it is challenging, but you don't have to worry about getting hurt doing it. I mean, not if you do it right. That's why I sent Ulaz the video file Pidge found for me. I thought if he gave it his stamp of approval we could start today after breakfast."

Keith's brain was broken. He sat blinking at Lance, his brain cells quietly frying in a toxic brew of humiliation and confusion.

Shiro took one look at Keith's panicky, flushed face and concern instantly filled his features.

"What's wrong? Keith, what did you think they were talking about?!"

"Porn."

It was Shiro's turn to blink in shock. He sat in horrified silence even as Allura and Coran pelted him with questions.

 _What was porn? Is it pleasurable? Why is Keith's face so pink?_

Pidge was too busy doubling over in laughter to be of much help. Her glasses were slipping from her nose in a one-way trip toward the floor as her shoulders shook violently with peals of laughter. Hunk had pulled-off an impressive disappearing act and had vanished from the room altogether the second the "P-word" had been uttered.

"So after breakfast, me-you-yoga?" Lance pressed.

Oddly enough, he hadn't swooped up the opportunity to humiliate Keith further. The whole _I-can't-believe-it-wasn't-porn-thing_ hadn't seemed to phase him.

"It'll be fun I promise. It might even help you not get so sore later. My sister used to get super bad back and hip aches during her second and third trimester. She said that stretching and yoga really helped."

Keith gave a stilted nod, eyeing Ulaz warily. He half-expected another lengthy safety lecture. However, the doctor only nodded in approving silence.

"I concur with the Blue Paladin. I've examined your bone scans thoroughly. Your hips will need a great deal of spreading to accommodate the later stages of your pregnancy and birth. Many of the stretches in the video file the Blue Paladin showed me should most certainly help."

"Okay... just... can we not talk about this anymore? Not here," Keith hissed. Ulaz nodded and returned to his food.

"Is it safe to come back in now?" Hunk was at the kitchen doorway, his eyes visibly wide with fright.

* * *

Keith stared down at the soft mat Lance unrolled on the gym floor. Lance nodded approvingly and rolled out a second one beside it. He plopped down cross-legged and grinned up at Keith.

"Okey dokey, we start with the basics. Sit!"

He patted the second mat encouragingly and Keith silently obeyed. This was so stupid! How would this be anything like training? This couldn't possibly be a good replacement. Not something this boring.

"This is the Butterfly position. It's like the easiest one."

Keith's eyebrow shot up as he watched Lance press the soles of his feet together and clasp them with his hands. The boy sat up straight and took a single, deep breath. He exhaled long and soft.

"Now you try."

Keith rolled his eyes and copied the position. He felt no different. The only thing this felt like was a waste of time.

"Good, breath slower, though. You gotta relax or yoga is basically useless. It's just as good for your head as it is for your body. Clear your head." Lance made a shooing gesture with his hand.

"My head's fine. Can we just get this over with?"

"Okay, fine. Next one. This is called the Cat Stretch. Little ironic given the whole Galra-are-officially-space-cats. I figured it only seemed right you learn this one."

Lance got down on his hands and knees, his head and neck unbent. "Keep your hands flat and your knees just little apart. Look straight ahead and slowly inhale. Raise your chin and push your belly down. Hold it!"

Lance froze in the position, eyes closed and face calm.

"Now, exhale and relax. Drop your head and arch your back just a tad." He looked up at Keith and winked. "Ready, Space Cat?"

"Only Pidge gets to call me that."

Keith begrudgingly shifted on his mat until he was on his hands and knees like Lance. He rushed through a hasty inhale and threw his head back.

"No! You gotta go slower. Plus, your back's way too arched already. Here, let me guide you."

Lance's hand landed on Keith's lower back, gently pressing it downward. Keith froze, his muscles rigid. His heart jerked so hard in his chest, he feared it would burst. A chorus of shrill alarm bells clamored throughout his brain.

 _'Let me show you how to move. Just like that... Good boy.'_

"Don't touch me!"

Black spots swam before Keith's eyes. He heard himself gasping for air as he curled into a tight ball on his mat. He was vaguely aware of a concerned shout near him, but he couldn't make out the words over his own choked out screams.

 _Don't touch me... please, don't touch me... Please... stop!_

 _Being so good for me. Sure you haven't done this before?_

Nausea bubbled up inside of Keith, but not from his morning sickness. He clamped his hands down on his ears like a vise, but it did nothing against the ghostly whispers clawing at his mind.

 **A/N: Sorry how long it took to update! School's been insane. Hopefully, I'll get more out over Christmas break. Thanks for reading, and leave a work if you like 3**


	9. Silent Scream

Way.

To.

Go.

Lance.

Keith was curled up on the floor in an impossibly small ball that made Lance's joints and back ache in sympathy. How in space did he curl up that small? He had to be triple jointed. Must be a Space Cat thing.

The boy was no longer screaming in panic, but his shallow gasps still filled Lance's ears deafeningly.

Lance had officially screwed up. Royally. He'd just been trying to help Keith with the stupid yoga position. He hadn't meant to break his teammate or send him into a hysterical downward spiral. How was he supposed to know that Keith was scared to death of physical touch now? Keith had always been kind of weird about personal space, but he'd never panicked over it before. Not before he'd went away to the Blade.

Quiznack, Kolivan! What did you let happen to Keith?!

If the Blade leader had been present, Lance knew he'd be staging an impressive interrogation, respecting your elders be damned. Exactly three questions screamed out at Lance, none of which he had any good answers for. Irritatingly enough, he doubted Kolivan had the answers either.

 _Question One: Who knocked up Keith?_

 _Question Two: Kolivan, why didn't you stop said 'knocking-up?' Seriously what kind of leader are you if you can't keep your underlings from going at it like rabbits whenever you're not around? Seriously. Did blade members not get condoms? Birth control? The birds-and-the-bees talk? (assuming there were birds and bees in space)_

 _Question Three: Who the quiznack hurt Keith!?_

"Hey, listen, you're alright? I'm not going to touch you again. No one's going to touch you again if you don't want them to, 'kay?"

Keith remained in his tight ball. He didn't seem to hear a word Lance was saying. Lance frowned in concern at the noticeable trembling racking Keith's body.

"Seriously, you need to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself. Listen to my breathing. In... Out. We're going to breath slow and long, 'kay? There's nothing to be scared of here."

Lance sat cross-legged from Keith as close as he dared but kept his hands carefully within sight and away from Keith. A warning voice at the back of his head niggled him to call for Shiro or Ulaz, but the suggestion felt wrong. Keith needed to calm down, not get a shower of over-protective lectures from Shiro or Ulaz in full-on "helicopter mode." They'd been hovering noticeable the past week since the Big News came out. It hadn't exactly been helpful for Keith. If anything, Keith seemed to resent their mothering more and more.

No, Lance decided. He's got this. He's the third-oldest of five siblings and uncle to three. He knows how to handle irrational panic. He's had plenty of practice soothing screaming babies and over-stimulated toddlers. His youngest nephew was diagnosed with autism three years ago. He knows stimming and he knows panic attacks.

He knows Keith.

"We're gonna keep breathing until we slow down. There's plenty of air. We're okay. We're safe. There's no danger. You're safe. We're in the Castle of Lions. Red is just down the hallway in her hangar. Maybe we can go visit her as soon as you start breathing okay again. Sound good? That's right. Nice and slow. In... Out."

Keith's trembling gradually stilled. His shoulders stop jerking as his gasping slowed. The tiny ball he'd contorted his body into relaxed millimeter by millimeter until he finally managed to look up at Lance. His large fuzzy kittybat ears were still flat against his skull and his eyes glassy and dilated. Lance stared back silently. His gut churned and he was stuck hard by just how hauntingly similar his teammate looked to the frightened, abused dog he'd once found cowering in an alley behind his house. The dog had bitten him savagely, drawing blood when he'd tried to reach out and free his bleeding neck from the wire that had been strangling it.

No, he wasn't going to touch Keith again.

"You're okay, Keith. It's just us. No one's gonna hurt you. I won't let them. I swear."

"Shut up." Keith's voice wasn't so much a whisper as a hoarse croak. He rose shakily to his hands and knees, one hand cupping his stomach protectively.

"Are you okay?" Lance pressed.

Keith remained silent.

"I need to know if you're okay. Give me something to work with or I'll keep freaking out and do something stupid like call Shiro and Ulaz." He shot him a meaningful look.

"N-no... don't call them. M'fine."

"Could've fooled me," Lance muttered. "You just had a panic attack. That's not fine."

"Leave me alone!"

No doubt Keith had meant to shout the words, but they came out as nothing more than a weak croak. He simply didn't have the energy to be mad.

"No, I'm not going to leave you alone. Not until I know what's wrong."

Lance felt his face soften as his voice gave a tell-tale hitch.

"You're hurting, Keith. Someone hurt you. I can see it."

Keith tried to stagger upright, but faltered and sank back down onto his yoga mat. He sat hunched, eyes flickering up at Lance wearily. He closed them and sat completely still save his fingers. Lance silently watched Keith systematically pick at his fingers, tiny ribbons of skin peeling up. Every single one had already been picked pink and raw.

"My sister was raped," Lance heard himself blurt out.

He huffed through clenched teeth and shook his head.

"Her volleyball coach used his position to string her along for months. He finally... did it when the whole team was away at a championship game out of state. She never told anyone until she found out she was pregnant. She spent two months puking her guts up in her college dorm trying to figure out a way to tell our parents."

Lance swallowed hard. Dark memories flickered in his mind-memories of loud crying and screaming throughout their house as his parents and Ilsa fought and struggled to decide what to do. He didn't allow himself to stare into that void. He couldn't delve too deep. Not now.

"I'm not saying all this to make anyone feel sorry for my sister or my family. She kept her baby and she's still healing. The coach is rotting in a jail cell for the next forty years. Ilsa's doing okay now. I-I just want you to know that I understand how people can use their authority to hurt others."

Lance winced at the loud crack in his voice but pressed on.

"I know they can get away with so much just because they make you feel so scared of telling the truth. It's like they make you think that if you keep it all stuffed inside it'll just go away or stop hurting. It's sick and crazy, but they actually make you feel like you're the bad guy for what happened—like you're the one to blame for what they did." Lance watched Keith's shoulders start trembling again, his head bowed. Something wet splattered to the mat beneath him.

"It only gets better and starts to heal when you tell the truth—get everything out in the light. Those are Ilsa's words not mine."

"D-Does your sister like being a mom?"

Lance blinked. Of all the questions and responses he'd expected, that wasn't one of them.

"Yes, she loves her son more than anything. She told me once that he saved her life."

Keith finally looked up, his red-rimmed eyes were burning with unspoken questions.

"She told me that if she hadn't been pregnant she would have killed herself after what her coach did to her. Knowing that she had another life inside of her... that's what made her keep living. She couldn't stomach the idea of taking another life with her own."

"Her baby... how old are they now?"

"Six and three-quarters. I made Pidge make me an earth calendar equivalent with our space time. I have every family member's birthday written down including his. This December Jose' will be turning the big seven."

Keith's gave something close to a weak smile.

"If we ever get back... wish him happy birthday for me."

Lance smiled back and nodded.

"You can meet him in person if you like. He'd like to meet your little munchkins too. Jose's always looking for new partners-in-crime."

Keith's smile faded.

"Not sure anyone will want to meet three purple half-aliens."

"Have you not seen ET? Lilo and Stitch? Everyone loves a cute alien. You'd be surprised how accepting people can be if you give them a chance."

"Not in my experience."

Keith rose stiffly to his feet, but hesitated as if not sure where to go. Lance jumped up and took a half step forward. Keith was trying to end this-pretend the whole hysterical mess hadn't happened. No! Lance decided. He wasn't going to let this go!

"Keith, there's no easy way to ask this. I probably shouldn't, but I can't stand by and watch you keep nose-diving. Did a Blade member force himself on you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't! If one of them did then Kolivan's got some trash that needs taking out."

"It was my fault. I could've stopped it. I... I let it happen."

"Bull."

"Lance, I'm done. I don't want to talk about this!"

"What are you so afraid of us finding out? You have nothing to be ashamed of. This isn't your fault!"

"You have no idea what happened!"

"So frickin' tell me, quiznack!"

Lance stood almost nose-to-nose with Keith. He met his eyes and mentally begged with every fiber in his being that Keith would just relent. What was so hard about accepting help? How could he not see how much they were worried about him?

"Keith, Kolivan is waiting to speak with you?"

The pair turned at the new voice cutting through the tension. Allura stood in the doorway, her eyes carefully blank of any emotion. She didn't wait for Keith's response. She'd already turned on her heel and strode off silently. Keith quickly headed after her, eyes downcast and void.

"Keith, at least tell Shiro. For all his annoying helicopter-parenting... you know he really cares for you. You're his family."

"That's why I'm not telling him."

* * *

Keith stared up at the comm screen, but pointedly avoided meeting Kolivan's eyes. For his part, the Blade leader seemed just as intent on avoiding eye contact.

"How are you fairing, Kit?"

"Fine."

"Ulaz has given me several reports. He says you are not progressing as well as you should. You aren't gaining weight."

"Eating's hard... I still feel nauseous a lot. Food doesn't sound good."

"You must eat, though! Your kitlings-"

"I know!" Keith burst out. "Believe me, that's all I think about—how horrible I am at this."

"I apologize. It was not my intention to upset you."

Keith blew a sigh and stared at the floor. He suddenly realized he was cupping his stomach again. He left his hand there and stared at it. The unconscious gesture seemed to be occurring more and more.

"I wished to check on you and ensure you are comfortable. Do you need anything at all?"

"M'fine. Ulaz made me a nest." Kolivan smiled wanly and gave an approving nod. "Have all your teammates contributed? They're scents will calm you."

"Yeah... I have something from all of them. It's... it's actually really nice."

Kolivan nodded again, but visibly hesitated. He looked reluctant to speak. Keith inhaled and held the breath, steeling himself for the anvil that was about to fall.

"I feel it would be wise to bring you back to Marmora headquarters. I'll ensure you receive safe transport to the Colony. It will be the best place for the duration of your carrying. You'll receive the best care possible and the proper assistance for the birth."

Keith froze, mind fizzling. "Colony? What colony?"

"Where do you think we kept our mates and young?"

"What mates and young?"

Kolivan simply stared, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Kit, many in our number have mates and young. We simply refuse to ever speak openly of them even among ourselves. The threat of enemy infiltration is too great. Should Zarkon discover our secret, our mates and kits would be targeted first—used as hostages should they ever be discovered. The Colony is located within the outer limits of Zarkon's scourge in a section of space too remote and barren to be of interest to him even if he did attempt to search there. It's one of the few pieces of space that have escaped war. You'll be safe there."

"I-I can't just leave. I just got back... the Team needs me." It was such a banal lie Keith couldn't even hide his wince. The Team didn't need him. Since his return he'd caused nothing but drama and chaos. "I want to be a part of Voltron again. I'm the Red Paladin."

"You cannot seriously consider piloting the Red Lion in your condition! Fighting battles while carrying your young?" The stark transformation of visible panic taking over Kolivan's normally barren poker face would have almost been funny if not for the caustic argument brewing in the not-so-distant horizon.

"I can still do this. I'll be careful, but I need to keep helping."

"In Galra customs, it is unthinkable for a dam to continue working. Even soldiers are expected to abandon duties if they're with kits."

"On earth, mothers can work right up until the day they have their baby. They don't just quit everything when they find out they're pregnant!"

Kolivan arched an eyebrow and shot him a pointed look. Keith resisted the urge to squirm. He was well away of just how ludicrous his comparison had been. He wasn't a normal human mother. He wasn't a normal human period. Kolivan could have also pointed out that normal human mothers weren't impregnated with alien fetuses.

"Why can't I just stay here. Ulaz is helping me. He's been figuring it all out."

"I need Ulaz to return to base. Healers of his skill are notoriously few. I cannot risk being without a physician with so many Blades in harm's way."

Keith resumed his finger-picking, relishing the dull scratching pain. He was done with this conversation.

"I'm staying. Just send Ulaz back when I'm in labor. That's all I ask."

Keith silently turned and marched out the door without another word.

He kept walking, no real destination in mind. In all honesty, he didn't care where he was going. He just needed to walk. To march off the toxic steam brewing inside of him from Kolivan's words. A part of him knew Kolivan wasn't trying to be unreasonable. A larger, more vocal part of his brain kept screaming how unfair and humiliating this whole mess was. Keith wasn't used to being fussed over. Between Shiro, Ulaz, Kolivan, and now Lance, he was up to his ears in mother-henning. If it was this bad so early in his pregnancy what kind of hell would his life become closer to the kits' arrival?

He shuddered at the possibilities. He stopped walking and heaved a sigh. His panic from early had finally caught up to him. The exhaustion had settled into his bones like the heaviest of dead weights.

An odd rumbling gently filled his mind. He glanced up and found Red staring down at him with her usual regal air. Golden eyes glowed brightly. He gave a wobbly smile and the purrs grew louder, more insistent. Red rarely used literal words when communicating, but even if she did, Keith wouldn't have needed them to feel the concern and love radiating from her. Concern mixed with fair serving of frustration. It was a common enough mixture for her given the kind of antics Keith pulled.

"Hey, girl... been a while hasn't it? I'm a jerk for avoiding you."

Keith sank down and pressed his back up against one of her giant paws. For metal it seemed oddly warm and comforting. He curled closer, tucking his knees up to his chest.

"Sorry, it's just... been crazy. And stupid."

A question prodded against Keith's consciousness. He winced at the inference.

"Yeah... I'm having babies. Three."

Red went utterly quiet for split second before her purrs grew practically thundering. Keith shot her a crooked smile.

"Yeah, I'll make sure you get to see them when they get here."


	10. Best Interest

"Give me his numbers again. You said his HCG was at 3446 mIU's? What about his HPL and Estrogen?"

Ulaz bit back a growl of frustration. No, he had not used those measurement values! Why did the Young One's brother persist in using archaic Earth measurements?

Over the course of their past three teleconferences, Matt had switched back and forth dizzyingly between Universal measurement values and Earth units without warning. He was blatantly unapologetic regarding the dizzying measurement conversions he silently concocted within his speeding brain. It wasn't that Ulaz couldn't perform his own conversion. It was the smugness Matt seemed to radiate that left Ulaz progressively irate.

"Human Chorionic Gonadotropin registers 23.5 _Ra's_ , Human Placental Lactogen is 44.3 _Tar_ , and Estrogen is 33.2 _Pa'_." Ulaz bit out the Universal measurement units challengingly, half-daring Matt to contradict him again.

"So 3446 mIU's, 5 micrograms per milliliter, and 140 nanograms per milliliter?" Matt rattled back without skipping a beat. "Everything seems in range. I mean, they might be considered slightly low given the fact he's carrying three not one, but the levels still seem acceptable from what I remember from my studies and what I've read from the medical journals Pidge and I managed to hack from Earth Satellites..."

He winced and tangled his fingers deep in his shaggy mane of hair. Ulaz was well-acquainted with the pensive gesture and braced himself for the nagging "but" hanging unspoken in Matt's words. Keith was doing better, but was it enough?

"Keith's doing good," Matt reluctantly concluded. "He's just starting his second trimester and he's kicking butt. He's even whipped the morning sickness. No more puking?"

"Yes, his eating has improved. I've prescribed a regimen of light snacks throughout the day to compliment his meals. He cannot eat a great deal in one sitting, but he can manage sufficiently with a larger number of smaller meals. He's gained a total of 3 hectogravs since the beginning of the first cycle."

"He's only gained 7 stinkin' pounds?" Matt shrieked. "For one baby that'd be perfect for the end of the first semester, but Keith's technically eating for 4 including himself. He should have gained more than that. He's at risk for major complications the longer he stays underweight."

Ulaz nodded gravely. Matt's fears were redundant. Ulaz had already spent many a sleepless cycle trapped in the same rut of helpless concern.

"I've explained the situation at length several times," he intoned gravely. "Keith is trying, but I fear his metabolism is abnormal due to his past malnutrition. From what I've learned from both him and Shiro, Keith spent the majority of his youth underweight. Gaining weight will remain difficult for him, particularly now."

Matt hummed thoughtfully and cocked his head.

"Have you tried any supplements? Shakes, smoothies? What's his mineral and vitamin intake look like?"

"He's consuming two high-calorie blends morning and night with sufficient vitamin and mineral additives. The shakes were designed by your sister and the Yellow Paladin. He is quite skilled at concocting appetizing creations. Keith's benefited from his culinary prowess. The Advisor assisted as well."

Matt nodded approvingly. From the slight glaze that frosted over his eyes, Ulaz instantly knew the Young One's brother was already in the midst of another sea of mental calculations and estimates. Matt's lips moved in the slightest semblance of unspoken numbers and values.

"Keep him drinking," he finally announced. "By my calculations he needs to gain a minimum of 36 pounds by the 24th week, er, movement by Altean terms. That amounts to about a pound and half per week. Since his BMI is already underweight he's looking at around 4,000 calories."

Ulaz didn't miss the nervous wince that unconsciously flashed across Matt's features. Keith was nowhere near that lofty number.

"I know that's a lot to expect-this is Keith after all. Still, he should be getting every calorie he can get. I don't care how he gets it."

"He is rather partial to the smoothies as the Yellow Paladin calls them. I will ensure he keeps drinking them."

Matt nodded approvingly, eyes grim and suddenly tired.

"Watch him for anemia and other vitamin deficiencies too. It's pretty common for high-risk pregnancies. It won't take much to knock him on his butt. When's his next check-up?"

"I'll be assessing him today. He's due for a new assortment of scans, including an ultrasound. I'm anxious to judge the kits' growth progress."

Matt opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, but the words never made it out. A deafening boom blasted across the comm's speakers and Matt flew out of the screen's view. Distant screams filled Ulaz's ears as the screen crackled with fuzzy interference and blacked-out completely.

He stared at the blackened monitor in shock, a knife of dread worming its way into his gut. He leapt to his feet and bounded from the room, his brain still spinning as he worked to process what exactly he'd witnessed. He ran for the Castle's bridge to alert the Alteans of the attack.

A bomb had gone off.

Ulaz was certain. His time aboard Zarkon's personal Flagship as well as his interims with the Blade left him no stranger to the jarring noise of detonation. The Rebel headquarters was under attack. That much was certain.

* * *

Keith yanked on his Paladin armor, willfully ignoring the stiffness radiating hotly throughout his lower back and hips. Lance's yoga was definitely helping him loosen up, but it wasn't perfect. Even daily sessions didn't quite manage to soothe the growing tightness in his pelvis. An iron band was cinching tighter around his waist each day with no sign of letting up.

He finished securing his suit and grabbed his Bayard and blade on his way out the door. He struggled to hide his huffing and puffing when he finally made it to the Bridge. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice his delay. Shiro, Lance, Coran, and Allura were standing in a tight knot, their voices quiet and grim. Pidge and Hunk were hunched over the Castle's monitors reviewing some kind of video feed and satellite readings. None of them looked up at his shuffling steps. It wasn't the first time he'd showed up late. If anyone noticed his sluggish movement over the past few weeks, they at least at the courtesy not to raze him over it. Maybe they didn't notice. He joined the tense huddle for the mission briefing.

"Ulaz witnessed what we're assuming is a massive attack on the Rebel's chief base." Shiro paused half a tick to let the words sink in. Pidge was tight-lipped and dry-eyed, but all the blood had been drained of her face, leaving her sheet-white save for two tell-tale red-splotches on each cheek. No one mentioned Matt to her. There was nothing they could say. No reassurance that would make an ounce of difference.

"Our mission is to intercept the attack at Trefgel and take back the planet. If a full victory is not feasible, we will rescue as many Rebels as possible and cause as much damage to the enemy as we can before retreat." Shiro's gaze went cold. "We give them hell. That's the short and sweet of it. Head to your Lions and prepare for Worm Hole jump in 20 ticks."

Pidge was the first to run, but not before Keith caught the subtle wet shine on her cheeks. Lance and Hunk wordless raced to their Lions, both far too anxious and tense for the usual ribbing and pre-battle trash talk. Even Coran and Allura seemed oddly subdued. They stood at the Castle's helm quickly and quietly checking the ship's instruments as they prepared for the imminent jump.

Keith turned to leave, but a large hand clammed down firmly on his shoulder. He turned and stiffened at the tense concern radiating from Shiro's eyes.

"I can fight. You know I can."

"Keith, we've been over this. You can't even train with the Gladiator anymore. Fighting a flesh and blood enemy is out of the question."

"You need me to form Voltron!"

Shiro's frown grew tighter. Keith gritted his teeth and persisted. He wasn't about to lose this battle.

"This is Matt's base we're talking about. _Matt's!_ Not some random Rebel fleet. Not even one of the other Coalition planets. Matt's on Trefgel."

"We are going to do everything in our power to save Matt-save the entire base if we can. That doesn't mean we have to risk something happening to you. Unnecessary risk is never an option."

"It's completely necessary!"

"Think about your kits."

Shiro wasn't yelling, but the ironclad finality of his soft words hit Keith harder than any physical sucker punch ever could. He jerked back sharply at the verbal slap.

"I think about them _every_ _freaking_ _day_. I know it's dangerous, but I'm not going to just sit back and watch. Not when this is about Matt. I've known him just as long as I've known you."

Keith ignored the soft crack creeping into his voice.

"Sushi-Taco Tuesday's? Remember, Shiro?"

From the stricken look blooming on Shiro's face, Keith knew his words had hit home. The same crazy Matt-centered memories from the Garrison were no doubt surging through Shiro's brain now too. The caustic poignancy didn't escape either of them.

Keith squared his shoulders and braced his stance just as he did before every Gladiator sparing match.

"Red will keep us safe. There's no way she'd let something happen to us-not now."

Shiro opened his mouth and promptly shut it again. Keith tensed for a fresh onslaught of arguing, but it never came.

"Fine. We jump in 5 ticks. Strap in and get ready."

Keith gave a stilted nod and turned to leave, but not before he could escape the quick crushing hug of Shiro's arms. As quick as it started, the hug ended and Keith watched Shiro race off for Black.

"Ready, Girl? I'm coming for you. First battle. We got this."

Red's growls grew progressively louder as he neared her hangar. By the time he was seated and strapped down, she was practically baying with bloodlust. However, Keith didn't miss the quiet warning laced within her roars. He cupped his stomach with both hands in silent agreement and nodded at the admonition. There was no way either of them was letting anything happen to the kits.

* * *

Trefgel was burning.

Even from space, massive charred patched of black stood out starkly against the planets' verdant surface. An odd, nauseating hum filled Keith's ears as they approached. He watched the blue laser blast from the largest Galran flagship. The blast hit the planet in s surging beam of white-hot purple energy. A blackened char scarred the surface in its wake.

"Lance, Hunk, swing around and approach from your left. Draw out as many fighters as you can. We need to distract them long enough for Keith and me to get some clean shots in on the flagship's cannons."

"Roger that, boss. Come on Hunk, let's go poke them with a stick."

"Pidge, as soon as you get a clear path, head down with the Castle and start gathering survivors. There's no Rebel ships up here on defense. That's not a good sign."

idge silently complied. Keith watched Green smoothly glide away to the Castleship to wait for their open window of opportunity.

Hunk and Lance's distraction didn't take long. Streams of attack drones were pouring from the flagship like angry hornets from their nest. Lance and Hunk gave them good chase, ducking and diving between them. Keith watched just long enough to see lance take out 3 ships with one impressively aimed tail-blast from Blue.

"Sniper tail-shot for the win! Love you, Blue!" Lance crowed over the comms.

Keith allowed himself a relieved smirk as he zipped after Shiro. Any worry he'd felt for Hunk and Lance had abated. They were more than capable of keeping the drones busy.

"Keith, I'm going to draw their fire. Wait until the blast before you get close enough for a hit."

Shiro dove toward the canon with savage determination. The canon head swung around and began firing violently. Black corkscrewed out of the blast's range, but quickly banked upward for a fresh dive. The canon was already firing again.

Keith rushed the canon from the side, careful to keep Shiro within his peripheral. He was nearly within range of the canon when Red gave an outraged roar. They jerked hard, Keith's neck whiplashing painfully at the brutal impact. He gritted out a pained curse and glared at the monitors for clues of what hit them.

A large blue crystal was imbedded in Red's left flank. Keith winced at the outraged roars still booming in his mind.

"Hey, are you okay? Can you shake it?"

Red didn't respond. Keith did a quick spin, hoping to dislodge the projectile. The crystal remained firmly stuck.

"Okay, let's go for the ca-"

Another spine-snapping jerk rattled the Lion as a second crystal joined the first. Keith swore louder and dove hard, desperate to flee from whatever was firing at them. It felt pointless. He couldn't even tell where the crystals had been fired from.

"Red, we need to take out the canon. They'll be crippled without it."

Keith jerked the control back up and braced for one final assault. They'd get the canon this time. There was nothing faster than them!

The controls moved, but nothing happened. Keith jerked harder, willing them to move as quickly as possible. Red gave an odd snarl and dove down in a gut-churning plummet.

"Red!" Keith screamed. The flagship was rapidly fading into the distance as they raced toward Trefgel's surface in a helpless free-fall.

"Keith! What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"Red, took control again. I can't control her. Something hit us and she's heading for the planet."

"Keith, try to take control. Focus!"

"I am! She's not listening."

Keith was still fighting with the useless controls. His stomach was rolling with growing nausea. He felt his muscles go weak as he sagged into his seat.

"Keith!" Keith's eyes slipped closed just as the first blue of Trefgel's atmosphere came into sight.

* * *

A cold knot of dread grew in Shiro's chest as he watched Red's rapidly disappearing form vanish in the distance. Keith sounded frantic, nearing hysterical, but it was the growing weakness in his voice that had scared him most. He sounded hurt. Fading.

Shiro muttered a curse and glared savagely at the canon. It was taking fresh aim for him. He banked hard and dove toward it, fury burning hotly. He was stuck fending off a frickin' canon while Keith plummeted toward a war-torn planet. He could be seriously hurt for all he knew and Shiro was powerless to help. The sheer helpless of that moment struck Shiro breathless. He yelled in rage and jammed his Bayard into Black with a desperate twist. Her jaw blades flashed threateningly as Shiro rammed them into the canon's base, cleanly severing the cannon and leaving it to drift useless in the vacuum of space.

Shiro was vaguely aware of the grating screech of metal and jarring impact, but they were already on the other side of the ship before he fully comprehended just how badly his skull hurt. He sat upright and gingerly dabbed at his bleeding forehead, raw for its impact on Black's consol.

He quickly glanced back and found the canon sparking, blue plasma leaking from the damaged hull. He blinked and jammed Black's controls desperately, narrowly missing the explosion.

"Whooo, baby! Hunk, look at the fireworks!"

Lance's voice sounded even louder than usual. Shiro pushed the pulsing pain within his skull to the back of his mind and raced to meet the pair. They were still trapped in a thick mob of drones, but holding their own cheerful, savage glee.

Shiro cut through the thickest patch and joined them in the center.

"Where's Keith!?" Hunk shouted.

"He's heading planet-side. Red stopped responding to him. I think she's trying taking him to safety. Pidge, Allura! can you track Keith?"

"Yes, he's already on-planet. He's near our trajectory. We're nearly there," Allura assured him. "We'll rendezvous with him and ensure he's safe."

"As soon as he's safe, assess the base. It may still be intact. Coran, have you been able to contact Matt or any of the Rebels?"

"Negative, their comms must be down. I'm guessing they were one of the first things destroyed by the initial blast."

"Shiro! On you six!" Lance shouted.

Shiro gasped and banked steeply, just missing the drone blast behind him. Hunk proceeded to ram the attacking fighter, thoroughly executing revenge for his leader. Shiro cursed his distraction and willed his mind to focus. He would get to Keith soon.

* * *

Keith stumbled out of Red, clawing at the grass and heaving himself forward millimeter by millimeter. He collapsed heavily on the grass, gasping. He cradled his stomach and curled up tighter at the waves of nausea sweeping over him. It wasn't morning sickness. He'd gotten over that. He hadn't puked in weeks. He moaned and grabbed his stomach tighter, willing himself to feel the tiny, almost non-existed bulge beneath his armor. He wasn't even showing. Not really, but he'd felt the invisible mound. He knew it was there.

Red was growling loudly in his brain, one part worry, the other part confusion.

"'M'fine. Just feel sick. Give me a second."

Keith forced himself to his knees. He was on an invaded planet. There could be an untold number of Galra sentries and soldiers nearby. He didn't have the luxury to lay about and take his time recovering from whatever weird malady that had stricken him.

He managed to stumble back over to Red. He stood, sword at the ready as he examined the odd blue crystals embedded in her armor. He reached to touch one, by Red gave a feral shriek so deafening that Keith unconsciously stumbled backward, hand gasping his throbbing head.

 _'Don't. Touch.'_

The adamant order was a shock. Red rarely ever used actual words with him. If she was audibly speaking now...

"Okay, I won't. What are they."

 _'Bad. Hurt. Poison.'_

Red wasn't using words so much now as general ideas and feelings. Keith still got the gist. He edged further away from the pulsating glow of the crystals and began surveying his surroundings.

The field they'd landed in was wide and open with a ring of thick trees hedging them in. Keith squinted at a puff of smoke rising up out of the trees to his left. Their was no sign of any more canon fire though. Shiro must have finally destroyed it.

"Keith! Keith! Do you read me?"

Pidge's voice crackled out frantically over the comms.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"What the frickin' quiznack! What's going on with Red?"

"Don't know. She wouldn't let me drive anymore," Keith muttered wryly.

Red gave the mental equivalent of a disgusted snort. Keith smirked and chose to ignore her reaction.

"Listen, find cover and wait right there. We're landing in like 3 dobashes. We'll meet you and re-group so we can make sure you're okay."

"'Told you, m'fine."

"Agggh! You have to stop staying that! It's like never ever true!"

"Pidge, I'm good. Honest. What's the stats on the Rebels? Matt? Any contact yet?"

"No, once we find you, we'll work on assessing the base and getting them out. The canons out of commission and Hunk and Lance are doing air-support. If we move fast, we can probably wrap this up before any more flagships arrive."

"Great. I'll be here. Got my coordinates?"

"Yep. Don't you dare move, Space Cat!"

Keith obeyed-for all of 5 ticks. There was no sign of the approaching Castleship. Pidge had claimed they were close. He should be able to at least see them approaching. He'd tried to go back inside Red to wait, but every time he approached she growled menacingly at him, only stopping when he moved back away.

"Let me in!" he barked. "Do you want me shot? That's what's gonna happen if I keep waiting out here!"

If Red had had visible emotions, Keith seriously suspected she'd be treating him to a legendary troll-face. She was brooding and unreasonable. Two emotions he was abundantly familiar with.

He took half a step closer only to watch her tail rise up, glowing in preparation for a blast. A menacing hum of machinery filled his ears at Red's threat.

"What the... Red, _stop it_!"

Her tail remained raised and primed for blasting. He glowered at her and stepped back only to freeze at the loud rustling filling his ears. He whirled around, sword at the ready.

A small, limping creature stumbled from the tree-line and collapsed several yards away. Keith rushed closer, but slowed cautiously when he was near enough to assess the alien. The pink skin was blackened with soot and several patches were raw and oozing a yellowish liquid Keith assumed was blood of some type. The tiny chest was gasping for air, its shoulders jerking with effort.

"Are you a Rebel?" he bit out.

A haggard face jerked up to stare at him with wide, saucer-like eyes, lips trembling.

"Paladin!? Please be Paladin!" it wailed.

"I am. I'm with Voltron. Are you from the Rebel base?"

"Yis... yis... Base _ka-boom_! Wise One said you'd come! Please come!"

The creature was reaching for his hand with a trembling tentacle-like appendage. Keith helped him up carefully and waited for it to gain its footing.

"Show me the way to the base."


	11. Non Zero Sum Game

**Please ignore all the hand-wavey science in this chapter. My nerdiness and passion is rooted in anatomy and physiology not nuclear physics. To any actual nuclear physicists reading this, I offer my humble apologies. ;3**

* * *

It took exactly 3 ticks for Keith to decide his portly guide was little more than a squirming ball of barely controlled panic and hysteria.

"Base! Base is bad! Core failing! Core failing!"

"Quiet! We have to be quiet or we're gonna get caught!" Keith growled, barely resisting the urge to slap a hand over the guide's chubby cheeks.

His guide stuffed a pudgy tentacle against his mouth and squealed helplessly into the squishy pink flesh. His eyes were wide saucers of raw fear. Keith felt his heart soften despite himself.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. I'm a paladin of Voltron. You're gonna take me to the Rebel base and I'm gonna figure out what's going on. We'll fix this."

Silently, he took his guide by the tentacle and led him through the dense underbrush. They'd only been walking for less than a varga, but the forest had already grown dense and tangled and the glaring afternoon light had faded into a dull gloom. Keith hacked through a snarl of branches and vines with his blade and roughly hustled them forward. He had no clue how far the Rebel base was, but they had no time to stumble around through the forest-not when an untold number of Galra and sentries could be lurking nearby.

Every one of their footsteps sounded impossibly loud and clumsy-like a herd of elephants crashing through the trees. Keith winced at a particularly loud sob from the guide. If there were any Galra sentries nearby, it would take a miracle to avoid detection. It suddenly occurred to Keith just how silent the forest around them really was. No bird calls. No sounds of animal life. Not even a puff of wind. The entire forest was holding its breath in anticipation for some unknown threat. Keith had a pretty good guess what it was.

"BASE!" the guide suddenly shrieked. Keith grabbed him and a slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Core failing! Base go bad." The guide garbled around Keith's hand. Keith pulled them down behind a large bush and wormed his way forward until he had a decent vantage point.

The Base itself looked fairly small and unassuming-not much more than a metal barn-like structure. Without the guide, Keith would have never have guessed this was the infamous base where Matt cooked up his deadly, tech-savvy weapons for the Coalition.

Matt worked in a dump.

"Save base?!" the guide pleaded, eyes big and shiny with tears. The base was smoking, black spires of smoke drifting up around it. Keith didn't see any noticeable fire, but it was clear something was burning inside.

"Stay here. Do not come out." Keith ordered, shooting the tiny alien a stone-faced unblinking glare. Keith waited for the tiny nod of obedience before he wiggled out from the safety of the bush, ignoring the stifled sobbing behind him.

He snaked his way around the base searching for a second entrance. A window. Something! He wasn't strolling in the front door-not with an unknown threat inside.

He eyed a small vent tucked behind the shelter of a clump of tall grass. He rolled his eyes and hunched down for a closer inspection. He would fit. Kind of.

His mind flashed back to months earlier back at the Blade's base. He and Regris had spent vargas training. Simple, menial tasks like sparring and practice maneuvers. Nothing particularly rousing or exciting. Hence the totally ridiculous dare Regris had put him up to. He'd bet Keith an entire crate of Arulian Truffles that he couldn't crawl through the base's entire ventilation system in under a varga without detection. Like the hot-headed, don't-look-before-you-leap idiot he was, he'd gladly accepted the bet only to crash through the ceiling half a dobash later and land smack in the middle of a generals' meeting. Hot, sweaty, and covered in grime, he'd been stuck explaining to Kolivan why exactly he'd been crawling through the ventilation shaft.

Not a fun discussion. Regris was probably still laughing at him.

Was Regris thinking about him? What had he thought when he'd found Keith missing without even a goodbye? He probably hated him.

No, Keith thought half a tick later. His stomach churned in dread. It was probably much worse. Regris probably hadn't wasted a single thought on him.

Keith huffed through his gritted teeth and pried off the vent's casing. He squirmed his way inside and began army-crawling through the filthy blackness. The silence was deafening as he crawled. There wasn't a sound save for the pounding of his own pulse deep in his ears. If he was going to go wiggling his way through a strange vent he at least wanted Pidge directing him through the comm. He needed someone with a map. He swallowed past the choking lump in his throat and forced himself forward.

He lost concept of time and direction. He could have been going in circles for all he knew. He pressed on and tried to ignore the growing tension threading hotly through every muscle and joint. For such a small building, the ventilation system was impossibly big It shouldn't have been that big! A soft glow caught the corner of his eye. He huffed and ignored the bead of sweat stinging his eye as he hurried off in the direction of the light.

He heard the noise long before he had any concept of what it meant. A loud, pulsing thrum vibrating within his ears. It grew progressively louder setting Keith's teeth on edge. A mental image of a monster growling took over Keith's mind. He forced his breathing to slow. This wasn't the time for irrational panic.

He was right above the noise. He stared down at the vent casing and fumbled for his blade. It was a tight squeeze. He carefully stabbed downward and felt the casing give way. He began prying carefully like maneuvering a can opener. Just like a can of tuna right?

When he'd managed to hack open a decent hole he stared down at the mayhem beneath him.

The first thing that caught his eye was the massive glass tube at the center of the room. Odd blue and green sparks crackled and arched inside like bolts of caged lightening. All around the room, aliens were scurrying about, voices raised and panicked. Most looked exactly like his guide although their colors varied. The flapping pudgy tentacles were the same though. He didn't remember ever seeing them at any Coalition meetings.

At the epicenter of the panic and bustle, a cloaked figure stood beside a massive wall of computer systems.

Matt.

Keith felt his concern abating ever so slightly. There was no sign of any Galra. Was it possible that the base hadn't actually fallen? His guide had made it sound so hopeless-as if Zarkon himself was standing in the middle of the base.

Keith hacked a larger hole in the vent and let himself fall. Half way down he triggered his suit's jets and slowed the descent. The aliens in the room gave a uniform shriek of panic and scattered like a pudgy swarm of cockroaches. Some grabbed for makeshift weapons, but most simply seemed to be searching for the nearest hiding place.

Matt's gaze jerked over toward him with a growing mask of incredulous disapproval.

"Keith! What the quiznack are doing? You shouldn't be here!" Matt muttered a few more alien word's Keith's suit translators couldn't quite pick up. They sounded way stronger than "quiznack" though. Matt had always been a fan of creative curse words, much to Shiro's chagrin-even back on earth during their Garrison years.

"Saving your base?" Keith clipped back. "One of your guys found me and took me here. They said the base was about to fall."

"Where's the others?" Matt rushed. "Are they all planet-side too?"

"Shiro, Lance, and Hunk are still in space trying to deal with the flagship. I don't know about Pidge, Ulaz, Allura, and Coran. They were supposed to meet me, but they never showed."

Keith frowned at the panicked atmosphere surrounding them. The massive glass tube flashed blindingly and thrummed ominously. "What is that?" he barked with a terse head-jerk. "What's going on? Is your base really in trouble."

"Trouble is relative term, wouldn't you agree?"

Keith whirled around and found himself staring at a familiar sneer.

Lotor.

The prince strode forward, his stance regal and confident with an odd but familiar smile playing about his features. Keith whipped out his blade and stood glaring, bracing himself for the impending battle. He was an idiot. He was beyond an idiot. Kolivan would be ashamed of his foolish impulsiveness. He should have waited longer in the vents. Should have waited to see what the situation really was before revealing himself. He'd probably been Matt's best chance at rescue and he'd already blown it.

"Already here to the rescue of Rebel base? My, my... Voltron is fast to act. Perhaps too fast, wouldn't you agree?" Lotor's sword was still sheathed and his body language was relaxed.

"What do you want?" Keith gritted out.Â He was barely resisting the growing urge to strike first and ask later.

"Isn't it obvious?" Lotor made a sweeping gesture and offered a crooked smile. "To save this base of coarse. Why else would I let them stay to contain the reactor. Without their efforts, half the planet would already be a radioactive wasteland. "

Matt was glaring hotly, every aspect of his body language screaming suppressed rage.

"What's wrong with the reactor?" Keith pressed.

"The first hit from the flagship destabilized it and toasted the coolant. The plasma from the blast also altered the planet's magnetic fields and set off a chain reaction. If I can't contain the reactor the entire planet will die in the fall-out."

"What's he doing here then?" Keith hissed, shooting a fresh glare at Lotor. He stepped out in front of Matt, blade at the ready.

"I've already told you. I'm assisting however I may," Lotor explained, his tone smooth and measured. "They're performing admirably, though. I am beginning to doubt that I'm actually needed."

"Cut the crap! You're here for the reactor. I know you want it!" Matt growled. He shot Lotor a quick ugly look before turning his attention back to his computers, fingers flying.

"So that's it then?" Keith muttered. "You're waiting around for Matt to finish? As soon as the reactor's stable you load everyone up as prisoners?"

Lotor simply laughed, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

"I did not attack this base. I did not fire those canons. I have no battle with the Rebels. I believe you've mistaken me for my father again. An unfortunate but frequent misunderstanding. I am not stealing the reactor so much as re-purposing it. I assure you, though, that I have no plans to use it against Voltron or the Rebels-so long as you do not get in my way."

"I'm not an idiot! We know what you're doing." Keith raised his blade higher. He was long past the point of discussion.

Lotor went silent, an odd look flitting across his face. He gave a visible sniff, cocking his head slightly in consideration.

"You smell... surprisingly sweet, Paladin," he practically purred. "I was aware of your heritage, but my generals failed to mention just how... _bewitching_ your scent was. Is it new or have you always carried this scent?"

Keith took a step back, unconsciously bringing a hand up to guard his abdomen. In the wide litany of potential conversations he'd ever imagined himself having with Lotor, this definitely hadn't made the list.

"Shut up!" He turned his attention to Matt, "do you have transportation? Enough for all the workers?" Keith's eyes drifted back to Lotor's smug grin unbidden.

"No, the blasts took out the hanger and all the shuttles. Half of our base is buried under the avalanches."

"Buried? Is your entire base under ground? That's why this place looked so small?"

"What can I say? It's bigger on the inside." Matt gave a humorless snort. "We have no way to evacuate. I can't even stop to give Lotor a smacking-that's why he's still chilling with us and not tied up."

Lotor gave an amused snort, shaking his head at the asinine threat. Matt glared and continued. "I take a break and this whole place goes up in a pretty mushroom cloud."

"Can you stabilize it?"

"So far I've been able to-barely-but I'm not sure how much longer."

"I've offered transportation, but they've neglected to accept," Lotor interrupted.

"My rebels would rather fry here with me than get trapped in a Galran prison! I'm not going back to a filthy work camp!"

"As I said, I'm not my father," Lotor retorted with a surprisingly patient tone. "You will all die without my assistance. Is a reactor really worth all of your lives?"

"Keith, can the Castle hone in on Red's signal? Do they know your location?"

"They did, but I think something happened. They must have lost it because they never showed. I haven't been able to contact them since."

"Something's jamming the signals maybe. Radioactive interference I'd wager." Matt muttered thoughtfully.

Keith felt comprehension wash over him coldly. "Before we landed, something hit Red-giant blue crystals. We couldn't get them off. Since then she started acting weird. She wouldn't even let me back inside after we landed. Could the crystals be jamming devices?"

"You were hit by Bythnian Hexite," Lotor intoned grimly. "You're fortunate to be alive. It can act as both a powerful explosive when detonated as well as a toxic poison. It can also alter electric signals and frequencies." He paused and treated Keith to a knowing look. "Your Lion was wise to keep you away. The toxicity is very... potent."

"If we can get through to the Castle, we can at least evacuate before this whole place fries. The reactor's stable, but I can't guarantee how long it will stay that way."

Keith nodded. "I'm going back to ditch the crystals. Without them, Red's signals should be restored. I'll tell them where we are."

Keith turned to leave but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"You cannot get anywhere near those crystals! If they're as toxic as Lotor says then your... _life_ might already be in danger. You can't risk it." Matt's voice was stilted and riddled with less-than-subtle implications. Keith knew exactly what Matt was inferring. He felt his hand squeeze tighter around his midsection.

"We have to get through to the others though," he argued.

"I have a fully-functional comm unit in my fighter. I'm offering it under the assumption that you will offer me the reactor core. I have a protective casing that will contain it fully and prevent a meltdown while I transport it."

"Like hell! You're not getting the core!" Matt yelled.

"You have no choice. I'm fully willing to assist, but only on my terms. I need that core, but not nearly as much as you need my assistance." Lotor paused, eyes flashing darkly. "I suggest you weigh your options carefully."

"You said you wouldn't use it on us... did you mean that?" Keith couldn't believe he was even asking the question. What had Lotor ever done to show a shred of honesty and trust?

"You have my word. I will not use the reactor on you so long as you do not meddle with my plans."

"And what are your plans?"

"My father seems to need a... _bigger demonstration_ of my intentions." Lotor seemed to choose his words carefully. "He did not listen before, but I will give him reason to now."

"Fair enough."

If Lotor wanted to fry Zarkon's fleet who was Keith to argue.

* * *

Shiro watched Hunk and Pidge frantically studying the scans they'd taken of Trefgel. So far they had no sign of the Rebel base or Keith. Both had seemingly disappeared into thin air. The coordinates Pidge had locked onto vargas earlier had been corrupted and skewed so badly with interference that they hadn't come anywhere close to triangulating Keith's worse part was they had no idea what was jamming the signals and preventing tracking. The jamming was like nothing Pidge, Hunk, or Coran had ever seen.

"I can't believe your own brother didn't even give you his home address," Lance griped.

"We've been over this, Lance!" Pidge shot back. "He's at a top-secret rebel base. They don't just give out directions or take out Yelp pages. He didn't tell me because he wanted me safe. I can't accidentally spill info I don't even have."

"Still..." Lance muttered. "If we could at least find him, we could probably find Keith. That's gotta be where Keith's at. He's smart. He'd find it and try to help."

The implications hung heavy. Keith was in no condition to single-handedly rescue an entire Rebel base. Ulaz was pacing like a caged tiger. He'd gone frighteningly silent when they'd finally admitted that they'd lost Keith. His silence was far more threatening than any lecture or shouting match he could have staged.

Shiro pounded the wall in a hot flash of anger and frustration. He felt the group's eyes resting heavily on him. He should have never let Keith fly into battle. He'd been so sure he could keep him safe as long as they stuck together. In the end, none of his efforts mattered. Keith was still right in the thick of the mission's greatest danger.

"Shiro, we will find him. He's going to be okay." Allura's soft voice did little to soothe his anxiety. He felt her hand slip into his own and give a squeeze.

"Wait! I see smoke. Where there's smoke there fire. Where there's fire there probably Rebels!" Hunk was practically jogging in place as he gestured wildly to the computer screen. "Look, see, there's something burning. It's gotta be the base."

"It looks rather small," Coran murmured thoughtfully as he zoomed in the scan. "I can't imagine the base being this modest in size. We'd have never spotted it without the smoke."

"We'll check it out. Allura, you Ulaz, and Coran hang back and be ready with the Castle's defenses until we assess the situation. Everyone else to your lions. Hurry!"

Ulaz stepped out in front of Shiro and treated him to a meaningful glare. Shiro nodded at the silent implications.

They all froze at the voice that suddenly rang out over the comms. Shiro felt his heart rise violently and lodge within his throat.

"Greetings, Voltron. This is Prince Lotor of Gal. I hope I haven't caught you at an awkward time. I'm contacting you on behalf of your Red Paladin and the Rebels. Neither had any access to their communication systems. They agreed to my assistance. They're coordinates are-"

"What have you done to them!?" Shiro didn't quite manage to keep his voice as even and cool as he no doubt should have. Lotor gave a low chuckle at the audible panic.

"I've done nothing but assist. The Rebel leader was quite beset trying to manage his crumbling base after the blasts. They had no transportation for evacuation or means to defend themselves. He's still in the process of trying to save the reactor. A radioactive meltdown is imminent without his efforts. Your Red Paladin doesn't seem well to me either. His Lion was hit by a very toxic projectile-Bithnian hexite. I'm sure the Alteans have heard of this substance. If you have a physician, tell him to prepare accordingly. Keith will begin showing symptoms very quickly and violently if we was truly exposed too long."

Allura and Coran both went completely still, faces drawn with panic. Ulaz thundered from the room, presumably to prepare the sick bay for whatever horror they were about to face when they managed to rescue Keith. Shiro quickly looked away, unable to stand the cold sense of terror quickly seeping over them.

"Give me the coordinates now. I swear, if this is a trap..."

"I assure you... I have no ulterior motive. Not this time. I've already made my bargains with the Rebel leader. I am satisfied. Set your guidance systems to 0084-20-3343." Shiro couldn't quite manage to ask what the "bargain" was that Lotor spoke of. Too many emotions and thoughts were already savagely gripping his mind. He was sure he'd find out soon anyway.

* * *

Comments and reviews keep me writing. Favs and subs make my day. Also, digital cookie to anyone who spotted the Dr. Who quote. Matt is a Whovian, no further discussion necessary.


	12. The Enemy of My Enemy

**Thank you so much to all return readers! Welcome to any new folks. Lots is going on in this chapter and I'm a bit worried it feels to rushed and jumbled. I'm extremely self-conscious about my writing. The big reveal of the parentage of Keith's kits is coming up, but this chapter and the next do begin to deal with some pretty heavy body dysphoria/racism/victim-blaming aspects of rape survivors. This chapter's not as heavy as the next one will be, but I feel responsible for some early warnings in case this is a touchy subject for anyone. Also, there is a fairly invasive medical exam and discussion of treatment later on in this chapter than some might feel uncomfortable with. Be advised and read with care.**

* * *

Keith sank to the floor and rested his throbbing head against the cool metal of a supply locker. Matt was still working feverishly at the computers. Occasionally, he stopped just long enough to fire off a string of orders for the other rebel scientists. Keith watched hazily. For rebels, none of the aliens at Matt's command seemed particularly "rebelish," not like the other battle-hardened fighters they met at past Coalition meetings.

Matt must have noticed his confused frowns. He gave a rueful smile.

"For the record, Zarkon fired on the Rebel R and D base, not the base with all the blood-thirsty warriors. I'm with the nerds-not even the cool nerds that know how to fire rocket launchers and invent torture techniques. We make weapons here, not fire them. The Synthites are all brains, not brawn."

As if on cue, a Synthite in question stumbled past Matt and Keith with a stack full of charts and a glowing tablet balanced haphazardly in its tentacles.

"I've run your numbers. It should work, yis?The reactor is truly stabilizing, yis?"

Matt gave a weary nod.

"Yeah, it's looking better. I can't believe we might actually walk out of here."

The Synthite bobbed its chubby head approvingly and huffed away with an odd squelching sound.

Keith stifled a weary chuckle and shook his head at the ridiculousness of their situation. His nerves were raw and jangling. Lotor's presence unsettled him far more than he cared to admit. The fact that they weren't actively fighting with him blew his mind far more than any nuclear reactor ever could. He had no clue how this would end. He kept waiting for the ax to drop and a bloody battle to break out, but Lotor seemed content to wait peacefully.

Keith didn't trust Lotor's brand of peace.

"I've successfully contacted your team." Lotor announced smoothly as he stalked back from his radio transmission. "They are on their way," he continued.

"Why wouldn't you just let me talk to them?" Keith growled.

Lotor's head cocked slightly in consideration and his gaze was hard.

"You do not look well," Lotor finally announced. "You should be resting. My fighter was nearly a hept'l away from here. There was no need for your to walk that far."

Keith rolled his eyes. Distance was of no concern to him-however long a "helpt'l" was.

"How is my reactor core?" Lotor asked with a satisfied smile.

"It's not yours until I remove it. Where's your special case anyway? I'm not touching the core until I see what kind of casing you want to use." Matt's gaze was dark and accusatory but Lotor smiled breezily past the glare as he launched into a string of heavy technical jargon.

Keith tuned out the next half an hour of conversation. It involved far too much science-y chatter and nerd-speak to suit him. Matt and a handful of Synthites were clustered around a large silver tube, talking energetically about "pressure containment" and "ionizing shielding."

Keith rubbed at his eyes and tried to ignore the growing sense of nausea welling up inside him. The weird not-morning sickness from earlier was making a jubilant return. There was no way he was letting himself puke in front of Lotor, though. He swallowed down the waves of nausea and focused on steadying his breathing.

"You are unwell."

The voice caught him off guard. His eyes snapped open and he jerked upright. When had he closed his eyes? He had no business letting his guard down. Sword sheathed or not, Lotor was still a unavoidable threat.

"I'm fine."

"You don't smell fine," Lotor's voice was accusing but oddly gently. "As sweet as your scent is... there's an unmistakable sour element of illness present. I fear the hexite toxicity is affecting you more than I originally sensed. There's something else as well isn't there? Something unrelated to all of this."

"I'm not talking about this!"

Lotor laughed lightly.

"I don't expect you to trust me, but please be assured that I'm well aware of the hazards associated with hybrid pregnancies. You must take great care to safeguard your health. You're at risk for many complications already without any added risks. I'm surprised your team allowed you in the field." Lotor paused and treated Keith to an intent look that made the fine hairs on the back of Keith's neck rise in hot unease. "If you were with your own pack, you would be cared for in every way. Safe. Galra care for dam's and kits with a fierceness other species don't seem to possess."

Keith opened his mouth, but his words had become trapped somewhere between his brain and his throat. He stood floundering for a plausible retort, but Lotor simply stood there with his odd smile. It didn't look haughty or presumptuous anymore. Instead, a quiet sense of understanding flashed back at him. He looked concerned.

"Your casing seems safe enough," Matt grudgingly admitted, stomping over, a phalanx of nervous Synthites at his side.

Keith breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption. He had no desire to continue the oddly personal discussion Lotor had foisted on him.

"We've extracted the core, but you're not touching it until the Castle gets here," Matt warned.

"I agree to your terms. For now, we wait."

Lotor's words were oddly ironic given the hell that broke lose in the next 5 ticks.

Deafening blaster fire rattled out as a flood of Galra sentries poured through the doorway. Matt grabbed the nearest Synthites and ducked below the table, narrowly missing the barrage of shots that blasted toward them. Frantic screaming and terror flood Keith's senses as the Rebel scientists scurried for cover throughout the room. He ducked behind the locker and watched the sentries march closer. He grabbed for his blade and rushed out, dodging and weaving. If he could get to the doorway and jam it close, they'd at least have a few ticks to plan their next move. How were the sentries even there? Shiro had taken out the canons. He'd assumed that the battle above the planet had already come to a close. How had Zarkon gotten sentries planet-side?

A tall figure dashed past him, sword flashing. Keith watched Lotor slice his way through several layers of sentries with effortless grace. He shook off his surprise and joined the fray, hacking his way toward Lotor. He glanced back once only to find Matt quickly and efficiently herding the scientists toward the safety of another door at the back of the room. Relieved, he turned back to the battle only to find a flesh-and-blood Galran soldier charging toward him with a glowing spear. He ducked at the last minute, a cold hiss of air buzzing past his head at the near miss. He jammed his blade upward and caught the solider square in the chest. He kicked the limp body away, but not before several more soldiers hemmed him in tightly. He lashed out, but they dodged away skillfully. Keith cursed silently and wished for more sentries. He could deal with metal robots. He'd had more than enough practice against the Castle's gladiator. Living soldiers were different though.

"Find cover!" a voice thundered in his ear. He blinked and found himself watching Lotor dispatch the ring of soldier with an effortless brutality that left his stomach hallow and sour.

"Keith!" Shiro's voice cut through his numbness.

Keith turned and found Shiro, Lance, and Hunk thundering through the doorway, blasting and hacking their way through the mob of sentries and soldiers. With a final burst of raw grit, he managed to fight his way toward them. Sweat stung at his eyes and he was drunk with relief as he swung out with his blade, clumsy with desperation. He finally made it to his teammates; they greeted him by promptly forming a protective fighting ring, back to back as they struggled forward.

"What the quiznack!" Lance gritted out. "Where did all these dudes even come from. There was no sign of any landings. We toasted the ship already."

"They must have had an early landing party we didn't spot on the scans." Shiro's voice was low and tight. Keith ignored the anxiety lurking beneath his words. He knew was long over-due for a safety lecture from Shiro and Ulaz. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"Where's Matt?"

"He's getting all the scientist to safety. I saw him rushing them all out of the room," Keith explained.

He looked back toward the back door to double-check that Matt had really escaped to safety. Instead, he found himself staring at Lotor as he smoothly hoisting the nuclear casing over his shoulder as though it weighed nothing. He caught Keith's eye and gave a nod. The ceiling suddenly blasted open, metal and dirt littering the entire room. A rope fell and Lotor's pink-skinned general swung downward with the grace of a dancer. She grinned cheekily and shot him a wink when she caught sight of his blatant staring. In less than a tick, Lotor, the reactor core, and the general were gone.

* * *

Keith stumbled into the communal bathroom, tore his armor and under-suit off, and roughly yanked the shower knob all the way to the left until the water was a steaming blast. He should've probably forced himself to head to the privacy of his private bathroom, but the walk to his bedroom felt too long. He had no desire to wear Trefgel's grime a second longer than necessary.

Keith stood under the scalding spray and let his head rest on the cool tiles of the wall. He tried to visualize all the thoughts and clamor in his brain washing out of his brain and flowing down the drain with the water. It didn't work. His skull felt ready to explode with the enormity of the chaos he'd survived.

Yes, the Rebels and Matt had all escaped to safety.

Yes, Trefgel wasn't a radioactive graveyard.

Yes, Shiro and Ulaz had railed on him about the horrendous level of safety and caution Keith had exercised. He knew their frustration was just a sign of their overwhelming care for him and the kits, but the lecture still stung his ears.

Then there was the fact that Lotor had Matt's nuclear core- arguably the most powerful invention Matt had ever created for the Coalition. The core wasn't a weapon, Matt had later explained. It still was a nearly limitless engine for an untold number of future weapons though.

Keith felt his legs abruptly give out. He sank to the shower floor and brought his knees up to his chest. He rested his chin on his bony kneecaps and closed his eyes.

 _'I'm well aware of the hazards associated with hybrid pregnancies.._ _If you were with your own pack, you would be cared for in every way. Safe._ _.'_

Keith dug his nails into the palms of his hands.

 _'...You're at risk for many complications as it is...'_

He gritted his teeth so hard he feared they'd crack. Was he really that much of a mess that their sworn enemy felt the need to give him safety lectures too? He could've lost his kits. The gravity of the realization made his chest ache with a fierceness that stole his breath away.

Red had forced him away from the toxic Hexite crystals. She had saved his life and the life of his kits. Her violence and crazy actions made so much sense now.

Hunk and Pidge had managed to dislodge the crystals with their own lions without risking their own safety. Currently, Coran was decontaminating Red in her hangar with a specially-designed energy ray to neutralize any radioactivity still clinging to her armor.

An overwhelming sense of relief washed over Keith as he let his mind drift over the past few vargas. Somehow, they'd all survived. They were all okay. For now.

His hands jerked away from his skin in sudden realization. He jumped up and stood in the steaming shower in stunned silence as he looked down at his bare skin. It wasn't a massive watermelon-like mound. No obscene "baby-bump" like the he'd seen woman with back on earth. He felt carefully with trembling fingers. Without his armor, he could definitely feel a firm new resistance to his stomach. It wasn't muscle; it wasn't fat. He cupped the tiny barely-discernable hill easing up from his lower stomach and closed his eyes. He tried to imagine the tiny beings that had taken up refuge inside of him. What did they look like now? He hadn't managed to look at any of the scans Ulaz had taken over the past few weeks. It had felt too unnerving then. Now, however, he'd trade anything for a look inside just to make sure the kits really were okay even after the hell he'd put them through earlier. Some mother he was.

"Hey, Keith, Shiro wants to debrief every- _Holy weblum, you're naked_!"

Keith turned and found Pidge standing in the doorway with her hands clamped over her eyes in exaggerated horror. He rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"You've seen me naked before."

"That was before you became a _mother_. It just feels... _wrong_ now. It's like walking in on your parents."

Keith huffed and allowed himself a laugh. "Come here. I want you to look at something."

"If Lance asked me something like that in a bathroom I'd already be running in terror."

"I'm not Lance," Keith reminded her. "It's not weird. Well, it might actually be weird. I need to make sure my eyes are screwing with me."

Pidge shuffled forward, her hands still guarding her eyes. Keith wrapped a towel low around his hips and held it in place. With his other hand he reached for one of Pidge's tiny fists and placed it gingerly on his stomach. There was a half-a-tick pause before Pidge's other hand whipped off her eyes. She stood staring in awe, grinning madly.

"You're finally getting a baby-tummy!"

Keith smiled shyly.

"It's small," he murmured. "I didn't even notice it until now."

Pidge's eyes went wide and her mouth turned into an "O" of realization.

"Keith, do you realize how big you're gonna get? I mean... You've got _three_ kits inside you. You're gonna be _massive_!"

Keith's legs abruptly turned to jelly and for the second time he found himself collapsing down to the slippery shower tile. Pidge rushed to ease his descent.

* * *

"And up to the sky, reeeeach! And down again. We're bending like a piece of saltwater taffy. Twisting around like a cinnabon-"

"Quit talking about food!"

"I can't help it. Hunk's been in the kitchen all stinkin' morning preparing for the Coalition dinner. I've literally been trapped with like a thousand of my favorite smells and he won't even let me sample!" Lance whined.

Keith raised his head from his yoga mat and shot Lance a dirty look. "You think _you_ got it hard?"

Lance gave a toothy grin. "Sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a sec. Are you getting cravings still?"

"Yes. It's frickin' stupid. I never used to snack like this. Now, I feel like I'm constantly eating. Hunk keeps giving me stuff!" Keith blew a sigh and plopped down on his matt. He stretched his legs out in front of himself in a slow, toe-curling stretch. Lance winced at the loud crack in Keith's back.

"You're lucky. Hunk won't give me a stinking thing!"

There was another loud crack from the depths of Keith's vertebrae.

"Ouch! that's gotta feel good."

"Yep." Keith popped the "p" and shifted onto his side. "Show me that one stretch we did last time. The angry turtle one?"

Lance was too busy giggling to correct Keith on the name. He demonstrated the side-curl and watched from his mat as Keith tried to copy.

"Is yoga actually helping your soreness or are you just BS'ing me?"

"My back feels better. I'm still sore in the morning when I wake up, but it gets better after a few hours. Nothing helps my hips, though." Keith gingerly straightened out of the curl and stared down grumpily at his puffy ankles. "You jinxed me. My ankles got fat like you said."

Lance inwardly cringed at the sight of Keith's bloated ankles. His signature red, black, and white boots had vanished a week or so ago after Keith unsuccessfully tried to get them on one morning.

It had been a dark morning.

Since then, Keith had been relegated to his fuzzy red lion slippers around the castle. His Voltron armor boots seemed to fit well enough still, but that was hardly a fair comparison given the fact that the suits could stretch to infinite limits. From Pidge to Hunk, the suits were definitely one size fits all, puffy pregnancy ankles notwithstanding.

"What did Ulaz say about them?"

Lance waited for Keith to tell him to suck off and mind his own business, but the angry retort never came. It was eerie, but in a good way. Over the past few weeks Keith seemed oddly content and mellow. Pidge muttered something a few days ago about Pregnancy hormones-whatever that meant. Regardless, Keith was definitely milder as his pregnancy progressed. However, Lance was still holding his breath and waiting for the anvil to fall. He distinctly remembered his sister's frightening mood swings and inexplicable crying fits late in her pregnancy. So far Keith was still in the soft and squishy stage of his pregnancy, but Lance wasn't taking anything for granted.

"He said he wanted me to cut back on my sodium. Salt causes more water retention." Keith frowned. "Which is stupid given the fact Hunk keeps giving me nuts to eat every 5 minutes!" He scowled and crossed his arms. Lance bit back a smile at the unintentional pout that had crept over Keith's face. His pouty face was so much different than his emo broody face.

An alarm beeped, cheerfully announcing the end of Keith and Lance's morning yoga session. Keith stood shakily, one hand looped protectively around his middle. The gesture was quickly becoming the norm for him. It was rare not to see him with at least one hand cradling his belly. Keith didn't seem to notice the action; it was subconscious and instinctive. As reckless as Keith was for his own welfare, Lance was quickly learning just how ridiculously protective he really was over others, specifically his unborn kits.

Keith clumsily bent over and began rolling his mat up, no small feat given the size of his growing stomach. Lance tried and failed not to stare at the melon-sized lump protruding from Keith's lower abdomen. Since the mission on Trefgel several weeks ago, all the weight he hadn't been able to gain the first trimester came piling on overnight. It was as if someone had stuffed a small cantaloupe under his snug t-shirt.

Lance had vague ideas for future nicknames. Planet-muncher was at the top of the list.

Keith seemed oblivious to Lance's less-than-subtle staring. He cracked his neck and nodded in satisfaction.

"Thanks for the stretches, felt good."

Lance blinked owlishly. Keith's new shows of gratitude still caught him off guard. He did his best to recover quickly.

"Tomorrow, we can try a new routine. Ulaz already gave his stamp of approval. Keith nodded vaguely and headed for the doorway.

"Keith, have you thought of any names yet?"

Keith froze midstep and Lance braced himself for impact. Crap, he'd just screwed it up again! He shouldn't have blurted that out! They'd had a perfectly calm, cool, and collected morning yoga session, and he'd destroyed the whole ambiance with a single reckless question. Keith hadn't had any more panic attacks or meltdowns since that first yoga session-at least none that Lance had witnessed. What Keith did in the privacy of his own room Lance could only imagine. He could only hope and pray that Keith was healing as well as he appeared outwardly.

He doubted it.

"I-I haven't really thought about names yet." Keith's voice was strangely soft and pensive. His kitty-bat ears were drooping slightly.

"You've got plenty of time," Lance rushed, jumping up nervously. "I mean, what, five more months at least. This is technically your second trimester still." Keith gave a shaky smile at the reassurance.

"Yeah, I guess." Keith looked away with a thoughtful frown. "How did your sister pick her son's name?"

Lance blinked and mentally shook off the verbal sucker punch. Keith was actually asking him for help?

"Well, obviously she didn't have to worry about consulting the father for his opinion on baby names," he muttered darkly. His eyes went wide when he finally heard himself. "Oh, quiznack... that was pretty bad. Scratch that. You didn't hear that! I'm starting over. Anyway... yeah, she always liked 'Jose' and 'Eduardo' was our father and grandfather's names. So yeah, Jose Eduardo was perfect." Lance gave a shaky grin and heaved a soft sigh of relief at the neutral expression gracing Keith's features. Not too bad for damage control.

"I like Rue," Keith blurted.

"That's actually a really cool name," Lance murmured after a thoughtful pause. "For a boy or a girl?"

Keith blinked as though the question had never occurred to him before. "I dunno... it doesn't really sound male or female. I don't even know what I'm having. Gender weird for Galra," he continued. "I'm not sure what they'll be considered depending on how many of my human genes they get."

A sudden smile stole over his face and Lance stood blinking dumbly at the warm glow radiating from him. Was this the infamous "Baby Glow" Hunk had been whispering about several days ago? Keith never glowed-until now apparently.

"Ulaz is actually checking today. He wanted me to come in right after yoga."

"Wait, so you're actually finding out right now. As in this morning?"

Keith stood squirming. His cheeks went ever so slightly pink with the faintest of blushes. His light lavender complexion all but hid the response.

"Yeah, he's gotta check some other stuff too." He hesitated and shot Lance a look of dread. "He's worried about my pelvis."

Lance swallowed hard. He wasn't used to this Keith. This Keith who did morning yoga with him and spent over an hour flopping around on his yoga mat. This Keith who blurted out baby names and grinned over the thought of his babies. This Keith who shared personal info like doctor appointments and hip problems. What hip problems exactly?

"My hips aren't spreading right," Keith muttered, eyes averted. "Last time Ulaz checked, he said that they were still too narrow."

"That's what the yoga's supposed to help with right? Ulaz said he thought it would help them."

"What if it doesn't? Lance-" Keith's eyes were growing wide with rising panic and his ears had flared straight up in hyper alert dread.

"Hey, hey, calm down. You got this!" Lance rushed, his hands flapping a placating wave. Do you have any idea how boss you've been about this whole thing? Literally, anyone else would have completely lost it like a thousand times already. They'd be curled up in a closet like a traumatized potato. You helped save an entire Rebel base a few weeks ago. You're eating fine now. You're gaining weight-finally!" Lance shot him a pair of finger guns. "If there's one thing I know about you, you're not gonna let something like your hips hold you back."

Lance felt his skin go bright red. Somehow that whole feel-good spiel had sounded way better in his brain.

"As weird as that whole pep talk just sounded, there's a compliment in there somewhere," Lance promised with a rueful grin.

Keith was doubled over laughing. He made no sound, but his shoulders were jerking in silent gasps of laughter. Lance grinned smugly and resisted the urge to pat himself on the back.

* * *

"Coran, I don't see why our paladin armor isn't acceptable for the dinner!"

"Princess, you know as well as I do that the Fregians won't approve. They are such a peaceful race; battle armor would be considered a direct insult to their culture. They would see it as an act of spite on our part. They are not even official Coalition members as of yet," Coran carefully reminded her. "A single breach of etiquette could force them away from any chances of joining our cause." Coran paused and shot her a meaningful look. "Fregia has incredible resources, particularly for the weaponry and protective measures Matt and his scientists have been discussing. We cannot afford to lose Fregia."

Allura glowered in her bedroom mirror a full five ticks before tossing one of her many dinner gowns on her bed with an angry flourish. "This is a Coalition dinner, not a Spicolian's End Feast!"

Coran silently stood stroking his mustache thoughtfully as Allura huffed about her room gathering assorted jewelry and hair pins. She tugged a brush through her long tangled curls with such savagery, he couldn't hide his wince.

"Princess, I must ask what has riled your ire. It is apparent you are not your usual charming self this morning."

The mice scampered out of the closet I panic as Allura roughly tossed a heavy armful of dresses back into the closet without preamble.

Coran hesitated half a tick. "I ask although I fear I already know what is troubling you."

"The whole Coalition will _see_."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"You know what response it will garner! It's not enough that half the ballroom will scent it before he even walks into the room. Once he's there it will mean nothing but questions... probing... _interrogation_!" she practically shrieked. Across the room, her mice dove beneath the bed with a shared squeak of dismay.

"Perhaps we are imaging this worse than it actually will be. There's every chance that there will be no negative reactions. The Coalition members may yet surprise us with their warm acceptance."

"There is no such thing as acceptance!" Allura spat. Coran heaved a sigh and began polishing his molecule pensively.

The bedroom door swished open and Shiro stepped in only to freeze at the frosty sight that met him. He took one look at the gowns scattered across the bed and Allura's dark scowl and promptly retreated half a step.

"Shiro, Keith cannot attend the dinner tonight!"

"What? Why? Did Kolivan ask for him? I told him that Keith isn't available for any missions!"

A breath of silence chilled the room. Allura's brush snagged painfully in her hair and she tossed it away with a harrumph.

"Shiro, we cannot wear our Paladin armor tonight... it would make the Fregians _uncomfortable_."

The word slid off Allura's tongue sourly, sounding far more like an insult than an adjective.

"They are attending as potential inductees into the Coalition. They have not yet committed as full members, but wish to 'observe our proceedings.'"

Shiro blinked questioningly. Allura saw his confusion and pushed on without pausing for breath.

"Without the armor, Keith's... _condition_ will be glaringly obvious! At least with the armor it isn't as obvious. Without it, though, there will be no way to hide it!"

Shiro's expression turned dangerously grim. His eyes seemed to darken at her implications.

"Allura, what would be wrong with everyone seeing how Keith looks?" he asked quietly. "He has nothing to be ashamed of."

"Many of the attending members are species that operate off a scent-based hierarchy system. They will smell that Keith is un-bonded and with kits," Coran explained quietly.

His face was soft with apology. He suddenly looked every bit of his ancient years with heavy lines around his eyes Shiro hadn't noticed before.

"We fear they may not be as accepting of Keith's condition as we are," the man continued.

"Allura, if you're suggesting we be ashamed of Keith or treat him differently-"

"No!" she yelled. Her eyes were wild with untamed panic. "Keith may be in danger! It's well-known now that he is part of the Blades and therefore shares the Galra heritage. Many of the Coalition members were painfully slow to accept the Blades' presence among us. They were even more hesitant to accept Keith once the secret of his heritage was revealed. If they see his condition now. The biases-"

Shiro expression softened as Allura's voice choked to a halt. He drew her into his arms and tucked his chin above her head. "You're afraid for Keith." It wasn't a question. "We won't let anything happen to him. No one will have a chance to hurt him tonight if that's what this comes down to." Allura snuggled closer but remained carefully silent.

"Aye," Coran agreed grimly. "We'll soon see this sorted out if it comes to blows or harsh words. Keith deserves every bit of respect, not just as a Paladin or Blade member. Poor lad..."

He bent down and quietly scooped of the largest of the mice, the only one brave enough to creep out from under the bed. He patted its head gently and gave a wane smile.

"All this time..." Shiro began slowly, his voice soft. "When the news of his kits first came out you always seemed so angry. Resentful."

Shiro studied the floor intently as he held Allura close. He didn't mince his words and he made no effort to hide the soft, questioning disapproval laced within his voice.

"I was so sure that I made my peace with his heritage and my family's loss," Allura murmured into Shiro's shoulder. "I was coping. When we found out about his kits though..." Her voice trailed off.

There was a soft swish as the door opened and Coran quietly excused himself. Allura waited for the door to shut before continuing. "I admit that I was resentful. Horribly so and I'm ashamed of myself to this day. I hated the fact that Keith was with child, but not because of the fact they were of Galran blood. I hated what had been done to him. He never deserved to have such a heinous act committed against him. For another to circumvent his own choices and rights-to force him under their will-"

Allura's voice hitched and her words trailed off into a choked cry. Shiro held her tightly, rocking slightly as she gathered her emotions. "It wasn't fair... he hadn't even been trying for young. He didn't want children. They just... _happened_."

"Allura-" Shiro tried.

"No! It's not _fair_! It's never been fair!" she blurted. "The Galra can mate with any species they wish. Alteans... can't."

The words hung awkwardly in the air. Shiro pulled back and stared down at her wet, splotchy face.

"You... want children?" His voice came out strangled and high with uncertainty. Allura ignored the wide-eyed look he shot her, choosing instead to bury her face back in his chest.

"Shiro, Alteans used to think so highly of pure-blooded heritage. It was unthinkable to mate with someone of another species. We had no qualms of using our abilities to blend in with other creatures as ambassadors and peacekeepers, but to _mate_ with them... It was unforgivable. Those who tried... it was impossible to bare children. The young never survived and the mother almost always perished from unavoidable complications. Alteans, although we are masters of changing our outward appearance... we never succeed in taking the changes any deeper than the skin. Superficial. There can never be any Altean hybrids."

Allura finally pushed away, straightening her hair self-consciously. She dabbed at her puffy eyes absently. "I used to think that it was so noble to have such a pure heritage. I was raised to believe that even if partial-Alteans were possible, they would be second-class. Inferior even. Now though..."

She gave a shaky smile that radiated nothing but pain.

"I believe so much differently now. Keith showed me my need for change. With the one you love, any children that come into being from such a union are nothing but precious. Priceless and... impossible for us."

Shiro crushed her close in a tight hug and didn't let go.

* * *

Keith watched Ulaz done a pair blue latex gloves with an uncomfortable snap. Keith shuddered and tried to hide the shudder that rattled him. Ulaz noticed immediately, his normally impassive face softening as he reached to adjust the light hanging above the exam table.

Keith inhaled shakily and snuggled back into the blankets tucked about him, desperate for comfort. Without fail, he always felt painfully freezing during every exam Ulaz conducted. Once he started shivering, he knew he couldn't stop.

"Keith, are you sure you're okay with me here?" Matt stammered. He was standing a good several feet away from the exam table, cheeks tinged pink with awkward discomfort. "I mean, I know this isn't exactly the most comfortable position for someone to see you in."

He gave a broad sweeping gesture at Keith's legs, already tucked up and apart in the stirrups. A blanket had been draped protectively over them to completely conceal him before the exam.

Keith rolled his eyes and gave a crooked grin that didn't feel entirely genuine.

"Matt, you're technically my doctor. You and Ulaz have to see what's going on. I'd rather not have any more surprises," Keith muttered.

"Still, if someone told me a few years ago that I'd become one of my best friend's OB-GYN-my very _male_ friend I might add-I'd start looking for whatever LSD they'd slipped in my drink."

Keith snorted and thumped his head back on the table restlessly.

"Keith, have you been experiencing any new pain or discomfort since your last assessment?"

Ulaz's voice was its usual smooth rumble. Keith felt the tension in his shoulders loosen at the comforting scent wafting from his physician. He wondered vaguely whether Ulaz realized just how comforting his scent was or if the scent itself was even intentional for the exam.

"Just my hips. The joints hurt. I can't relax them-even with the stretches Lance shows me."

"May I feel?"

Keith gave a stilted nod and forced himself not to jerk away as Ulaz carefully palpated his hip joints.

"Any sharp pains when I press?"

Keith winced and stifled a moan.

"Have you noticed any bloody or strange discharge from your passage? Any burning or discomfort?

Keith shook his head, cheeks burning.

"Cramping?"

Another head shake.

Ulaz gave a thoughtful hum and removed his hands.

"I'll be performing several more scans today in addition to the ultrasound. They should show whether any significant changes have occurred within your bone structure."

"The issues with your hips sounds like round ligament pain," Matt butted in. "It's pretty common with later pregnancy stages," Matt intoned thoughtfully from his distant position. "The uterus places more and more pressure on the ligaments of your hips as it expands with the size and shape of the baby."

Keith nodded silently. Knowing the cause of his hip pain didn't really fix the problem.

"You will begin using heat and cold compresses to relief the inflammation and pain. I can prescribed an analgesic to numb the worst of the discomfort." Ulaz announced. "I will also speak with the Blue Paladin regarding additional stretches to relieve pressure on the ligaments.

"You've gained a very reassuring level of weight, though." Ulaz remarked with a gentle smile. I am pleased with your progress."

Keith smiled wanly in relief at the news. However, his smile quickly faded as he watched Ulaz take a seat on the low stool situated between his spread legs. Ulaz folded the blanket up around his knees and reached for the first of his instruments.

Ulaz's usual poking and prodding seemed far longer and much more invasive than usual. Keith managed not to squirm off the table, but he was still sweating bullets and shivering visibly by the time Ulaz finally set his tools back on the tray. Loud, ragged gasping filled Keith's ears as black spots swam drunkenly at the corners of his vision. Keith cringed weakly when he finally realized it was his own breathing grating on his ears. His stomach churned and for a long, horrifying moment, he was positive he was about to be sick all over the sick bay floor.

"Shsh, cub, you're safe," Ulaz murmured, reaching up to stroke the soft, sensitive pressure points of Keith's neck. "I will never harm you."

Matt rushed to help Ulaz remove Keith's legs from the stirrups. They tucked the blankets back over him and waited anxiously for Keith's breathing to return to return to steady.

"Keith, I have to ask... do you have panic attacks every time Ulaz examines you... _down there?_ " Matt's voice was noticeably softer, even apologetic, as if he truly hated himself for the question.

"Not a panic attack," Keith argued with a stubborn growl. His eyes were oddly moist and his nose burned with a warm pain. He found his chest was still too tight to speak normally.

"Your levels of anxiety are extremely elevated compared to other expectant dams," Ulaz pressed. "This is not normal. I'm assuming this heightened emotion is due to the kits' parentage? It's understandable to feel discomfort and even fear after a forceful breeding."

Keith curled in on himself and tucked his knees up as close to his body as his bulging stomach would allow.

"Not. Helping. Ulaz," Matt gritted. He crept up to the table and knelt down so his face was at Keith's eye level.

"Hey, we don't have to talk about this now. I know you hate it—you have every right to. It's not going to feel better over night, but if and when you want to talk, you have a whole line of people waiting and ready to be there for you," Matt promised. "You're not alone in this and you never will be. You've got a team now. A family."

"I... I want to see my kits," Keith whispered, eyes averted. He couldn't say anything else. The swelling lump in his chest wouldn't allow it.

"You got it." Matt straightened up with an understanding smile. He nodded at Ulaz. The physician was already rolling the ultrasound monitor closer.

Ulaz lowered the blanket just far enough to expose Keith's lower abdomen. He squirted a thick glob of gel and began rolling the ultrasound transducer in a slow steady circling motion.

Keith didn't relax until he saw the monitor flickering with staticky fuzz. He held his breath and waited until the first shapes appeared on screen. Subtle outlines of rounded heads were the most obvious traits to spot. Keith felt his heart swell at the sight. The roundness of the heads tapered off into smaller oblong bodies all neatly pressed together. The cavern of his body seemed so small to contain so much.

"They are growing very well," Ulaz murmured, pleasure warming his voice. "Their hearts are stable and strong. The placentas are intact and positioned correctly. There is still no sign of any damage resulting from the Hexite."

Keith breathed yet another sigh of relief. Ulaz had repeatedly assured him that the Hexite hadn't caused any lasting damage, but his worry still remained even weeks after the mission. Maybe this time, the reassurance would last.

"Your kits are strong. Little warriors already." Ulaz smiled down at him fondly as he continued to maneuver the transducer over the swell of Keith's stomach.

"Keith, your munchkins are pretty frickin' adorable!" Matt's voice was nearly giddy with awe. "I know it's early but I swear the middle one's got your head." Keith huffed out a laugh and stared up muzzily at the monitor. He could stare at the screen all day and still not get enough.

"Have you felt any movement yet?" Matt asked eagerly.

"No, I don't think so," Keith answered, struggling to keep the disappointment from showing.

"You should begin to feel movement soon. They've developed sufficiently and they're gaining weight steadily. I am confident they'll make their presence known very shortly," Ulaz promised with a soft smile.

"What... what are they?"

"The gender?" Matt asked. Ulaz was frowning in confusion at the question. "Because they're part-human, their gender might be more distinguishable than normal Glara young. They may not be fully hermaphroditic," Matt explained patiently to the doctor. Ulaz nodded and peered hard at the screen.

"I can see two distinct types of exterior genitals," he murmured thoughtfully. Keith held his breath and watched and waited as Matt and Ulaz pointed and stared hard at the screen. There were several minor disagreements and at one point Matt haughtily began explaining the wide and varied benefits of external male genitalia-a fact that Ulaz seemed completely at odds with for multiple reasons Keith didn't care to dwell on.

"Keith, I'm no obstetrician-or xenobiologist for that matter-but from what I can see you've got... two girls and one little guy snuggled inside you."

Something warm and fuzzy bloomed in Keith's chest, a feeling like nothing he'd ever felt. He stared hazily at the screen, his face tightening into an impossibly big smile he doubted would ever go away.

"Congrats, Keefers!" Matt stroked his arm gently, grinning proudly. "Think up some names. You've got time, though, so no sweat. Just don't get Pidge involved. She'll name 'em all after Star Trek characters."

" _You're_ the one that liked Star Trek," Keith corrected him with a smirk.

Matt winked. "HA! Just checking to see how well you remembered the good old Garrison days. I think we're definitely due for a Star Trek marathon. I keep trying to pay Pidge off to hack a few earth satellites. There's gotta be some Star Trek somewhere! This is space after all."

"Would you like a copy of the ultrasound scans?" Ulaz asked. Keith nodded eagerly. He didn't even realize Matt was already wiping the gel from his stomach. All too soon, the monitor images faded and he was left staring at a blank screen. Matt finished wiping him down and re-tucking the blankets. Ulaz rolled a new machine over and stood making adjustments at the control panel.

"I'll be performing the usual diagnostic scans-just your bone structure and overall uterine shape and development. It will also allow us to better visualize your placental placement and circulatory flow. You may keep the blankets on for this."

"Stay really still, Keith. Give us five ticks," Matt urged him.

Keith held his breath in anticipation and mentally counted. There was a faint flash and a black and grey skeleton appeared on the monitor almost immediately. Three tiny skeletons faintly appeared within the cramped blackness of his abdomen on the screen. He frowned at the outline of his body, wincing at the narrow bridge his hips formed. He was no doctor, but he knew the picture was wrong.

Ulaz was humming thoughtfully, seemingly unwilling to comment as he studied the scan.

"Keith, is your hip pain worse than it was a few weeks ago? Does it seem to be worsening?" Matt questioned, his eyes rooted to the screen.

"Yes."

Keith didn't even have to think about the question. Every step was painful now as though his hips were grinding on solid bone every time he moved. It was an agonizing catch 22. He avoided walking as much as possible now, but there were only so many safe and comfortable positions he could sit or lie in. He couldn't even remember what it was like to feel comfortable and happy in his own skin.

"Do you have any kind of numbness or burning in your legs and feet?" Keith hesitated before shaking his head. In the wide litany of weird pregnancy symptoms that kept popping up, numbness and burning hadn't made the list. Yet.

"No apparent nerve damage or compression yet," Ulaz murmured to Matt. "I will speak to you further, Matt, concerning our options," he intoned. A warning laced his words. Matt only nodded silently.

"What's wrong?" Keith immediately pressed, jerking upright. He wasn't letting their concerns slid past him. He deserved to know!Matt exchanged a silent meaningful look with Ulaz. The pause grew so heavy, Keith feared they'd forgo answering altogether. "Tell me what's wrong? I need to know. This- this is my body!" his voice cracked and he felt himself growing hysterical.

Matt nodded at Ulaz and gave a long, pained sigh.

"As it stands right now, your pelvis is still too narrow to allow a safe birth," Matt began, voice low and apologetic. "Multiple deliveries are already really challenging—most have to be performed with a Cesarean. The placement of the babies makes a natural birth too risky for breech because one baby is almost always positioned wrong due to the cramped space. Your narrow hip size isn't helping. The babies could become trapped in the pelvic inlet."

"So... what does that mean for me?" Keith feared he knew the answer, but he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"It would be safest for both you and the kits if your delivery is surgical," Ulaz explained. "We would wait and perform the delivery as close to your due date as possible provided you do not going into early labor or begin experiencing any significant complications.."

" _Surgery_?" Keith choked, eyes burning.

"I would make two incisions—one through your superficial skin and the other through your uterine wall. The kits would be safely removed and the placentas and amniotic sac removed—"

"Not really helping, Ulaz," Matt interupted with a pained frown. He turned to Keith and gave a calm smile. "C-sections are very common and safe surgeries now. They've been perfected and complications are more rare now. We'll take great care of you, Keith. I promise."

Keith was still frowning. He knew he should be reassured by Matt's promise, but the idea of surgery still haunted him. When he'd first discovered his pregnancy, his horrified brain had immediately drifted to what the delivery would be like. Pain. Fear. Blood. Helplessness. Keith hadn't found a single positive about the experience and the idea of going into labor had been what scared him most. Now, however, it was the only thing he wanted. It was natural. It was something he could control in a way. He would be the one delivering his kits. Now, it was being taken away from him just like his kits would be when it was time for Ulaz to remove them.

Matt seemed to sense the inner war plaquing Keith's mind. "Keith," he murmured with a significant smile. "We have time. We'll plan and talk all of this out as it gets closer. You'll know everything that's going to happen and we'll answer every question. This isn't happening today. We have time to get ready for this."

Shakily, Keith allowed himself a small head-jerk of agreement as he battled to calm his anxieties and listen to Matt's reassurance. Matt smiled in relief as he watched Keith gather himself.

"Okay, quick blood and pee test than you're home free. I glanced over your vitals Ulaz first took when you got here. Your blood pressure, temp, and oxygen levels are all perfect. I'll check your pee for protein and bacteria real quick then we have a party to get ready for tonight. The Coalition members will be showing up soon." Matt's voice was suddenly too happy. Keith glared at the forced positivity and flopped his arm out haphazardly for Ulaz's blood draw.

"Hey, how do you organize a space party, Keith?" It was painfully obvious how badly Matt was working to distract him as Ulaz worked to extract his blood. Keith didn't comment. He stared hard at Matt's expectant face and waited for the inevitable punch line.

"You... _plan-et_. Get it. _Plan-it_?"

Keith rolled his eyes with a weary smile while Matt guffawed proudly at his own humor. Ulaz stalked off with the blood vials. Keith allowed Matt to help him up from the table. Keith fussed with the strings on the examination gown and gingerly stepped off the table.

"Wait, you're gonna moon everyone like that."

Keith hesitated impatiently as Matt carefully secured the back ties of his gown, eventually nodding when it was finally safe for Keith to walk. He accepted the small collection jar and shuffled off to the bathroom.

* * *

He looked huge.

He looked like he'd swallowed a planet whole. _Planet-muncher._

Keith was surprised Lance hadn't picked up that nickname yet.

The small rational slice of his brain knew that he was exaggerating, but Keith's paranoia was already roaring full-blast as he stood staring at his reflection in his bedroom mirror. The tense exam with Ulaz and Matt hadn't helped.

The dark red suit Allura had dropped off several days ago for the Coalition dinner wasn't particularly flashy or strange, but the stark hump poking out from his profile was definitely eye-catching in all the worst ways. He took a deep breath and sucked in his stomach as hard as he could, but the hump in the mirror didn't change. He could lie... say it was a tumor. A deadly space parasite.

He huffed. No one would ever believe his lies.

He jumped at the knock on his door. When he cracked it open several moments later he found Shiro smiling back at him, strikingly handsome and composed in his dark suit.

"You look great Keith. Ready?"

"I-I can't go?" Keith fumbled, stepping back. Shiro calmly stepped inside his room and closed the door behind him. His face was soft and lined with worry.

"Keith, talk to me... what's wrong?"

Keith pointed to his stomach helplessly.

"I'm fat. Everyone will see."

Shiro's warm expression faltered and for a split second, Keith caught sight of the briefest flash of pain and uncertainty buried in Shiro's composure.

"It doesn't matter what they think. You're still you. This is your body and you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Keith gave a shuddery sigh and bit his lip. "What if they ask questions. I don't have any answers."

"So don't give any. It's not their business," Shiro gently pressed. "These are _your_ kits, not theirs."

Keith looked up at him and found himself suddenly snuggled tight in his embrace. "Just don't ditch me tonight... please?"

"I'll stay with you the whole time. Promise."

There was a sudden round of banging knocks before the door abruptly burst open. Keith had exactly half a tick to gather his wits before a large, sleek body rushed toward him.

A narrow, chiseled face was suddenly sniffing loudly just millimeters from his face. It tucked itself deep into his neck and breathed long and loud with a happy sigh.

" _KITS_!"

Keith stumbled backwards clumsily and would have fallen if not for the strong, prehensile tail suddenly cradling him from behind.

"Keith! You have _kits_! Leader would not say why you left save you were needed for Voltron. It makes sense now!"

Keith stood blinking, wide-eyed at Regris' triumphant crowing and buzzing energy.

"You smell... sweet and warm," Regris pronounced proudly. "You are full of kits." He peered closely before reaching out hesitantly toward Keith's pronounced stomach.

Keith promptly batted his hand away with a loud slap.

"Hands-off."

"But I want to feel the kits," Regris whined. He tucked his head down like a kicked puppy and stared up at Keith until he finally relented with a steely-eyed glare of warning. Regris gently extended a hand and let it rest solemnly on the apex of Keith's stomach. He closed his eyes and smiled toothily in approval.

"You will make a good dam. You're too protective already," Regris murmured, his voice twisting with good-natured teasing. Keith allowed himself a rueful smile. He couldn't deny the accusation.

"Didn't know you'd be here tonight."

"Wasn't supposed to be. Leader only selected three blades to attempt the Coalition gathering. I insisted on coming," Regris announced, puffing his chest out proudly. "I threatened Atsiu' and bit their ear until they finally gave up their place," he explained with a less-than-guilty smirk.

The smirk immediately evolved into something far more somber. He shot Keith a pained look. "I was worried. I needed to be sure you were truly okay. Leader's been... _angry_ since you've left. Unpredictable."

Regris cocked his head, his features quickly becoming playful again. "I see you're eating well at least."

Keith promptly lunged for Regris, batting at one of his large ears violently.

"Jerk."

" _Kitten_."

"I told you never to call me that! Ever."

"But you are a kit. _Kolivan's_ _little kit! Antok's_ _little Kit!_ " Regris sang out, ducking away quickly. Keith was already gripping him hard around the neck, clinging like a leech as Regris dashed from the room.

Shiro stared blinking and shocked at the scene that had just played out before him. He had half a mind to chase Keith down and insist he let go of the other Blade immediately. If he were to fall or take a hit...

Shiro inhaled exactly three times, swallowed, and forced himself to exhale. He smiled wanly and shook his head at the absurdity of the play fight he'd just witnessed. His worry over Keith's self-consciousness had been at an all-time high after his and Allura's difficult tumultuous discussion. Now, however, it was quietly faded into the background as he left the room. Keith had more than enough support to last the night.

He hoped.

* * *

 **Thank you to everyone who's fav'd/followed or reviewed. 3**


	13. Fault Lines

**A/N: Heavy warnings for victim blaming and references to non-con/rape. No explicit details are mentioned but the implications are clear. Also, PTSD and panic attacks are present in this chapter. Thank you all for reading.**

* * *

Pidge sat at Keith's opposite side grinning fiendishly at Regris' absurd antics. In the 5 dobashes since they'd taken their seats, the Blade member had already managed to reduce Keith to a giggling pile of mush using nothing more than his talented tail. Pidge was nothing short of amazed at the show of emotion. Keith rarely laughed, let alone giggled. She bit back a smile as she watched Regris' tail sneaked out and flicked a large sticky berry from his plate across the table, scoring a direct hit one of the lanky, grim-faced Fregian ambassadors sitting across from them. The fox-faced alien glowered darkly and began searching futilely for the source of the missile. Regris' tail had already disappeared from sight, the entire incident too fast to have been noticed by the bustling banquet table. However, judging by the subtle rueful smirk Shiro was hiding seats down, it was clear someone other than Pidge and Keith had spotted the mischief.

"You're gonna get us in trouble," Pidge heard Keith hiss between giggles. Regris gave an odd purring sound that vibrated the inside of her ears in a pleasant way. His tail darted out and stole a small tart at the center of the table. He slid it over to Keith proudly, but not before stealing a generous dab of the fluffy pink frosting on top. He made a show of licking the tip of his tail until every bit of the frosting was gone. He winked brazenly at Pidge when he caught her staring. She smiled gratefully and they shared a knowing look she hoped Keith couldn't spot.

For all the chatter and energy in the room, the atmosphere still felt badly forced and tense, as if everyone was holding their breath and afraid to let it go. Pidge had already caught several obvious glares aimed at Keith over the course of the dinner. Eyes were aimed at his stomach with unapologetic nosiness no one even bothered to disguise. So far, no verbal questions had been uttered, but she knew she'd seen dark whispering. She thought back to Ulaz's explanation of Galra scenting when the news of Keith's kits first came out. She could only wonder how many noses in the room were aimed at Keith's mismatched scent. Pregnant and un-bonded. Surely there were far worse things to be. This wasn't even Keith's fault! He hadn't wanted this, yet everyone was treating him like it was his fault.

Pidge could only guess how much more Regris knew as a fellow Galra. Keith's scent was no doubt abundantly clear to him. That had to be the explanation behind his outrageous antics and hilarious distractions. He was keeping Keith too busy and entertained to sense the growing hostility and questions seeping throughout the banquet hall.

"On behalf of the Castleship and the Voltron Alliance, I warmly welcome each of you here tonight."

Allura's calm, regal voice filled the entire room as she stood to her feet at the front of the room.

Shiro stood at her side quietly and listened to her speech, lending his support with his own nods and smiles.

"It's with great pride and confidence that we have invited each of you here to discuss our recent victories against the scourge of the Zarkon's empire as well as the new opportunities of victory that have arisen." She paused half a tick. "Also, I'd like to thank our newest potential members, the Fregians, for joining us tonight as guests and potential Coalition members. We welcome your interest and can only hope that you join us as proud members of this great Coalition."

Shiro stepped closer and gave a smile that oozed nothing less than pure confidence and control. Pidge idly wondered just how genuine it actually was. She could see the stress lurking beneath his carefull-crafted mask. She only hoped the mask didn't crack.

"Tonight, one of the first and most pressing topics on our agenda is the lingering threat Lotor potentially posses to the Coalition. Recently, he obtained the nuclear reactor core from Trefgel during Zarkon's attack. Although he did not violently steal it, the core was obtained wrongly-through coercion. We have good reason to believe that he may not intend to use it against the Coalition, but we need to be aware of the possibility and take measures to retrieve it."

"How exactly was the core obtained? I don't believe you've offered any specific details."

Every eye swiveled to the unimpressed voice. The Fregian ambassador was frowning coolly, suspicion emanating from his dark slanted tapped his long, tapered fingers impatiently and fiddled idly with the large pear studding his ring.

"I don't recall any official report stating the full nature of the Trefgel attack. For such a powerful weapon, Voltron's power seemed quite lacking during the altercation. Perhaps, we haven't heard the full story."

To his credit, Shiro didn't even miss a beat or stammer at the bold accusation.

"Lotor secretly arrived at the base without our knowledge. The nuclear reactor was on the brink of failure and Matt, the chief scientist and leader of the Rebel base, had to concentrate all of his efforts on stabilizing the core. The Synthites are a peaceful race-not warriors. The base was so crippled from the attack, they had no choice but accept Lotor's assistance when he revealed his intentions. He offered assistance and communication abilities in exchange for the reactor. There was no other way to contact us and share their coordinates. It was not a fair trade, but at the time there was no other alternative. We did not learn of the full details behind the trade until Lotor had already left with the core."

"I find it interesting that this information was not shared sooner. It begs the questions, what other details have you concealed thus far." The ambassador's tone went oily with accusation. He turned and stared directly at Keith. "It leads me to my next question. Are all of the Paladins of Voltron so shameless and brazen or is it just this _crena'_ that bent over for anyone who asked? I can smell his shame from here."

Pidge had time for exactly one stunned blink before the entire table devolved into a thronging mass of raised swords and clamoring voices. Regris had lunged across the table and was currently holding his blade to the Fregian ambassador's long neck. Ulaz, Kolivan, and the other two blades were running for the table even as the rest of the Coalition members sat yelling, a caustic mixture of insults and questions boiling to the surface. Allura and Coran looked stricken as they raised their voices, pleading for order. Shiro was livid, face red and eyes flashing dangerously as he stalked to the ambassador. Lance, Hunk, and Matt, although still seated, looked ready to lunge for the closest Fregian throat if the opportunity presented itself.

It suddenly struck Pidge that she had no exact translation for _"crena'_." The Castle's translators hadn't picked up the foreign word. She didn't need a translation, though, she quickly decided. Her stomach churned sourly. It was abundantly clear what the ambassador had just called her teammate.

Pidge's eyes finally trailed to Keith. He was sitting frighteningly still, eyes wide and shoulders jerking as he gasped for air. One hand clutched his stomach protectively while the other rested on his blade as though bracing to defend himself for the imminent attack.

"Keith is a Paladin of Voltron and no concern of yours!" Shiro spat. "He's done nothing wrong!" He stood practically nose to nose with the ambassador.

"If the paladin is part of this Coalition than I have every right to be concerned. If my people are to join this alliance I need full assurance that I can trust the rest of your members. That trust does not include secrete trysts with the enemy or shameless indiscretions such as what the Red Paladin no doubt enjoyed. Who sired the bastards within him? It could have been Lotor for all we know. Another Galran most certainty. How deeply does your trust of the Blades of Marmora extend? I understand the Red Paladin was present on Trefgel, yet he allowed Lotor to escape with the core. It gives every appearance of hidden motives—personal interests."

Shiro Galra hand was glowing threateningly. "Leave. Now."

"You need Fregia's resources," the ambassador shot back smoothly. "That was the entire point of this banquet I believe."

"You are no longer invited to join this Coalition!" Allura's voice was nearly shrill with emotion.

The ambassador gave a greasy smile as he and his fellow members silently stood from the table. "You should know that my planet's resources are now on the open market. I'm sure I'll find a higher bidder—one with less secrets perhaps."

Regris gave a snarl and prepared to strike. If not for Kolivan's quick roar, the blade would have plunged deep in the Fregian ambassador's neck. Regris reluctantly halted and watched the sullen group leave.

"If everyone could please return to their seats... we can continue," Allura's voice was weak, but desperate to regain order. "We must continue and place the shame of this ridiculous display behind us," she forced out.

"Are the questions true?" a voice asked. "Was the Red Paladin present during Lotor's theft?"

"Who holds the other parentage of his young? Who is the sire?"

"Did he allow the core to be stolen?"

"Is he trustworthy?!"

The Fregians were long gone, yet the toxic stew of questions only grew in their wake. Pidge forced back waves of nausea as the banquet continued spiraling out of control. It felt less like a banquet and more like a mob. Shiro's wrath had faded into barely concealed desperation as they tried and failed to regain order.

With a broken heart, she watched Keith stumble to his feet and run desperately from the room, accusations and shame clinging to him every step of the way.

* * *

The Red Lion's consciousness erupted with flares of hot, unforgiving bolts of pain. As quickly as the searing jolts came, they faded into the yawning void of grief that threatened to swallow her whole.

 _Her paladin..._

 _Fear._

 _Alone._

 _Pain._

Her entire being ached with the festering rawness that emanated from her paladin's soul. She wished for eyes that could weep. Flesh arms that could embrace. Her anger ignited a sudden volley of questions. Who had harmed her paladin?! She would drink the blood of his enemies!

Her anger faded to a low simmer when she caught sight of the lone figure staggering toward her. Her paladin was weeping, his entire body shaking in the violent clutches of his grief. He stumbled and dropped to his knees, hands cradling his middle desperately in fear. The Red Lion knelt down in silence, aching to touch the small creature she called her own. The Red paladin crawled inside her wordlessly and collapsed into her pilot chair. She saw him curl into the tiniest of balls, knees snug against his body and arms wrapped tightly in a empty semblance of an embrace.

She raised her particle barrier and waited with him. She didn't speak, but she radiated as much warmth and concern as she dared-too much would scare him she feared. He seemed to appreciate her silence; he curled closer. Every aspect of her being craved destruction and violence. Those that hurt her paladin must pay! She forced herself to remain still, however. Her paladin was in no condition for battle.

* * *

Shiro raced down the hallway, narrowly avoiding a painful head-on collision with Lance.

"Did you find him!?"

"No, I just checked his room. Nada," Lance muttered with a frustrated head shake.

Shiro frowned deeply at Lance's answer. They'd rushed the Coalition members off the ship as quickly as possible, but diffusing the clamoring mob had still eaten up precious minutes—minutes Keith had obviously used to make his escape. Allura and Coran were trapped with lingering Coalition members, muttering empty promises of future explanations and faux reassurances. Their gracious masks didn't seem to be working. The Rebels had turned their attention to Matt, demanding details and greater explanations of the chaos on Trefgel. He was fielding questions with a shocking level of graciousness and propriety, but Shiro seriously doubted the extent of Matt's patience. When it was gone, heaven help them all.

Pidge, Lance, Hunk, and the Blades had spread out quickly for a rapid, desperate search of the Castleship. Keith shouldn't be left alone. No one verbalized their fears, but Shiro knew the same dark tendrils worming their way through his mind had no doubt invested the others' minds. Keith was explosive and spontaneous on his best days. Grief and fear were never safe factors to add to the equation.

"Shiro! I found him!" Pidge's voice rang out over the comm.

"Where? Pidge, is he okay?" he shouted back.

"Come to Red's hangar," was Pidge's blunt response.

"Is he okay?" Shiro repeated, his voice stilted with anxiety.

"I don't know." Pidge's weary sigh hung heavy in the silence that stretched between them. "Red's barrier is up. He's gotta be in there, though. She'd never have it up otherwise."

Shiro didn't respond. He was already racing down the hallway with Lance hot on his heels. When they finally made it to the hangar, they found Pidge, Hunk, and the Blades lingering awkwardly on the edge of the glowing particle barrier. Regris was pacing like a caged tiger, his large fists clenched tensely and his arms crossed. Shiro idly wondered how many times he'd already attacked the impenetrable field.

"Any word from him? Have you tried his comms?"

The ugly scowl Pidge shot him was sour with impatience. "Of course I've tried! I've literally talked myself blue in the face, but there's no response. I can't even tell if Red's letting my messages get through. She's full-on mamma bear mode now."

Shiro heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. His teeth clenched tightly and his temples pulsed with the tension. How was he supposed to fix this?

"Shiro, Keith cannot afford this level of stress and anxiety," Ulaz warned quietly. "He will physically harm himself and the kits if this continues unchecked" Ulaz paused. "His stress levels were already far too elevated. He could enter premature labor and abort."

Shiro's chest squeezed tighter. He gave a hallow nod and stepped closer to the particle barrier. He stared Red in the eye and waited for a sign-some small hint that she was open for discussion. He got nothing. It made a horrible kind of sense. There was nothing more dangerous that the mother of a wounded or scared child. Why should he expect any kind of understanding or courtesy from her. For all she knew, they were the cause of Keith's pain.

"Can I get a minute?" he asked them. "Let me try talking to Red... alone." The group stared back at him grudgingly. No one wanted to leave with Keith so close by. It would feel too much like abandonment. "Please, I just want to try." Shiro begged. "Red might be more open to discussion with less people around. If I can't get through to her than anyone else is welcome to keep trying. There has to be someone she trusts enough."

Silently, the group dispersed, some more willing than others.

Kolivan was the last to leave. He cast a foreboding scowl at Shiro before finally turning away. Shiro nodded at the silent warning and turned back to Red.

He took a deep, fortifying breath and stepped ever so slightly closer. "I'm here to check on Keith. An... enemy threatened him. We've eliminated the enemy. They cannot hurt Keith. I need to make sure he's okay." Silence. "I know he's hurting and upset. He's done nothing wrong and we're not angry at him. Please, let me inside."

Red didn't move an inch in response.

Shiro felt as though he was arguing with a brick wall.

"I need to make sure he's safe. He could hurt himself... the kits!" Shiro began pacing, jaw clenched. "You know he's at risk! You can't help him! Not alone!"

Shiro wasn't entirely sure when he'd started yelling. He froze, his voice echoing numbly around the massive hangar. He stood completely still and forced himself to take several slow, measured breaths to calm down. He extended his hands pleadingly and tried again, his voice careful and low.

"I know you care about him-you've saved him so many times already. I know you want to help him. I do too. Let me help him... please."

The particle barrier shimmered slightly in hesitation as though Red couldn't fully make up her mind. Shiro held his breath until it finally vanished. He hesitated half a beat before running toward her. He didn't breath again until he found himself standing in Red's shadowy interior. Silently, he edged his way toward the pilot chair, nerves rattling. He stared down and found Keith's trembling figure tucked tightly into the safety of the seat. His eyes were clamped shut, his entire face scrunched in a mask of pain.

"K-Keith?"

The boy jerked so sharply Shiro feared he'd fall from the seat. Keith's eyes went wide with panic, his pupils so dilated the purple of his eyes was completely obscured. His large fan-like ears shot upright in rigid hyper-alert tension.

"It's me. Just me no one else," Shiro gently assured him.

"Sh-Shiro?" Keith's voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. He stared up at him, his damp face crumpling with pain. "I-I'm sorry," he croaked.

Shiro frowned in confusion. "Keith, you have nothing to apologize for!" Keith jerked at the sharp tone that had crept into Shiro's voice. The man winced and instantly amended his words. "No, Keith, we're not upset at you. I promise. What happened tonight..." Shiro heaved a pained sigh and shook his head. "It should have never happened. You didn't deserve that."

Keith's breathing turned ragged as he began sucking in breaths at an alarming rate. He hunched his shoulders, eyes somehow growing impossibly wider in raw terror. He began shaking his head violently.

"Keith? Keith!" Shiro found himself slipping into the seat behind Keith and wrapping his arms about him. He brought him close to his chest and held him firmly. "Just breath, Keith. It's okay... it's going to be okay. I promise. Just think about breathing now. Feel how slow I'm breathing? That's what I want you to think about. Shsh, come on, Keith, you can do this."

Keith was unresponsive, trapped in a loop of fear and panic. Shiro had never felt so powerless as he sat cradling Keith's trembling body. This level of fear was strange and unfamiliar to him. He was familiar with Keith's panic attacks from their time together back at the Garrison, but they'd never been this extreme. Keith's panic now was raw and caustic.

Shiro's fear was just as toxic—somehow worse than anything he'd felt I the Gladiator ring. Fear for someone else was always far uglier.

Shiro gave a soft jerk of realization as a memory nibbled at the back of his brain. He found himself wearing a shaky, nostalgic smile as he began rattling off a list of names.

"Eridanus, Taurus, Canis Major, Crux-" Shiro listened to his own ragged voice drone out the list of names. He didn't stop. "Leo, Lyra, Aquarius..."

"Andromeda." Keith's small whisper jerked Shiro out of his own rhythm. Shiro smiled with wane relief and kept going. Keith's tiny voice piped up several more times, taking turns with him now for each new name.

"Cygnus."

"Corvus."

"Cephus."

"Ursa Major."

The poignant familiarity of their name game hit Shiro like a blow to the gut. His mind went back to the late nights they'd spend camped out in the desert staring up at the black void of the night sky, milky with stars. They'd started the game when it became apparent just how badly insomnia plagued Keith. Shiro had found the boy wandering the garrison barrack halls at all hours, often creeping into the gym or flight simulator to burn off restless energy. It was only after a month of nightly trips out to the shack that Keith seemed to find a nightly routine calming enough to still his wandering mind.

"Pleides," Keith murmured.

"Orion," Shiro returned, finally daring to release his hold on Keith. He sat back in the chair and watched the boy shiver in his lap at the sudden loss of contact. "I'm here, Keith. I'm not going anywhere."

"Sorry...Messed up the dinner." Keith's voice was low and worrisomely monotone as though all his emotion had been sucked dry.

"Wasn't your fault. They had no right to treat you that way."

"He was right, though."

"The ambassador?" Shiro tried and failed to keep the disbelieving anger from leaking into his voice. "He had no right to imply what he did. It wasn't true—any of it."

"I did it though."

"Did what?"

"Bent over." Keith's voice hitched but he pressed on. "I just... _took_ it. They asked and I did it."

"Keith-" Shiro tried. The boy shook his head hard and turned to face him. His face was shiny with tears even in the dim light.

"I-I need to tell you. All of it. If... if I'd trusted you than you'd already know. I shouldn't have kept it from you." Shiro opened his mouth to argue, but Keith was already pressing on. "I-I don't know how, though. Every time I want to talk... nothing sounds right." He gave an empty smile. I-I think I can show you though. Red wants to help. She kept asking, but I never answered her. I want her to help now, though."

Shiro didn't fully understand the boy's words. Not until his world went abruptly black. The air thickened and muddled as though he'd plunged under water.

* * *

 **Big reveal next chapter. We'll finally see the true story of what happened while Keith was away**.


	14. Bonding and Blindfolds

**A/N: *Staggers up from a shallow grave***

 **Hello everyone. No I haven't died. Yes school is sucking me dry and leaving me zombified. I have not abandoned this story. Hope this chapter was worth the wait and a special hug to all who've fav'ed and followed.**

 **Warnings: This chapter is not explicit but it does contain a flashback to a rape/non-con scene. If this is triggering, send me a note and I'll summarize for you. Basically, we learn what happened to Keith while he was away. Healing begins in this chapter and there is fluff. It's not my intention to sensationalize rape, but I do want to portray it honestly and show how everyone (male or female) is at risk. It does not exclusively target women. If you've been hurt, please know you're not alone. There are people who love you and will help.**

* * *

They were no longer inside Red.

Shiro's confusion bloomed warm and sick within his chest as the new surrounding slowly gained color and shape. Light morphed over them until the new world finished taking shape.

Shiro forced his fluttery breathing to slow as he studied the new scenery that had stolen them away from the safe familiarity of Red. Muted grays and dark green filled his vision as he studied the new room. Something like tapestry hid the walls and an elegant rug lay beneath his feet. There were no windows, but several doors stared back at him.

The largest door swung open and a tall, statuesque creature glided through, its figure shrouded in a long flowing cloak. They walked toward him, but their eyes showed no sign of recognition. They never acknowledged him. Several moments later, Shiro watched Keith come bursting through the door, grinning madly and biting back tiny chuffs of laughter. He stared through Shiro as though he were made of glass. Shiro raised a hand in a confused wave, but Keith never seemed to notice.

"I can't believe what you just did!"

"And still you doubt my talents," the tall stranger murmured. They arched an eyebrow regally but the pompous air vanished as a crooked smile flashed playfull back at Keith. Blue eyes glowed.

"You are a liar."

Oddly enough, Keith's words sounded far more like a compliment than an accusation. The stranger bowed elegantly and returned the grin.

"Why did you think Kolivan sentenced me to such... invasive covert operations. My entire life is a lie. My mission is to masquerade as the only kin of a high ranking Galran official. An officer ready to learn and advance no matter the cost. Lies are easy when you live them."

"You just lied your way into top Galran clearance. Zarkon just gave you control of an entire base."

"Among other things," the stranger added with a lofty, sarcastic sigh. "I doubt he fully realizes the wealth of resources on this planet. I'll be sending you back with a full inventory for Kolivan as well as samples of some of the more impressive weapons. You'll leave tomorrow."

Keith nodded, his attention stolen by the tablet in his hands. He was swiping through screens eagerly.

"Did you see that SPECS of the base? It receives Quintessence shipments regularly. Matt and the others will be able to analyze it—find out what's making it so powerful!"

The stranger reached out and tipped Keith's chin up with slender fingers until their eyes met.

"Distractible are we?"

Keith grinned ruefully.

Shiro's brow wrinkled in confused surprise as he watched Keith lean ever-so-slightly into the touch.

"Just excited... this is such a huge opportunity. We've never had anything like this. This is nearly free access."

"Couldn't have gotten it without you," the stranger murmured with clear fondness. "What would I do without my brave bodyguard to play the part. After all, what high-ranking courtesan leaves home without their most-trusted guard?"

Keith smirked at the game and ducked his head almost shyly. "I forget that you're actually a courtesan, Gemmae. You acted just like the other Blades on Base. "

"Ha! I'm nothing like the other Blades. We just happened to live in the same foul barracks for several spicolians."

Shiro frowned at the scene. The playful banter and tenderness confused him. Keith was never that intimate with anyone. It scared him. It was like staring at an optical illusion and trying to figure out what exactly was out of place. The unnerving feeling of "wrong" ached and tugged at his chest, stealing his breath.

The stranger's cloak slid off and landed in a graceful pile on the floor. Shiro found himself staring at a decidedly female body. Gentle curves and rounded peaks stared back at him, etching a hot blush into his cheeks; the stranger's garb left little to the imagination but she seemed fully comfortable and confident in her show. The female laughed lightly and pulled Keith closer, tucking her tiny nose into his neck. She inhaled slowly, her entire body moving with the action.

"Your scent is sweeter than usual," she murmured into Keith's neck. Warmer." Her tone buzzed with implications, but Keith merely stood wrapped in her embrace. His face was uncharacteristically soft. Shiro peered hard and tightened his jaw, warning bells screaming louder. Keith's eyes were dilated and unfocused, glazed even.

"You didn't tell me you were ripening," the stranger pressed.

Keith was tugged closer, the stranger's hands dancing over his lean shoulders and trailing down to rest at the small of his back. Shiro swallowed back a painful gag as he watched her lick a long stripe down Keith's neck, pausing to suck and nibble at his ear. Keith let out a low, pleased keen Shiro had never heard before. It was the kind of sound he never imagined Keith could make. It sounded feral. Galra.

"Delicious... my sweet omega."

Keith was purring, his back arching at the forceful rubs and massaging she offered.

"Kolivan never let you play before has he? Not his precious kitling. Too pure... too innocent."

Keith was suddenly flat on his back, the stranger looming over him. She wasn't much larger than him, but she suddenly seemed gigantic as she loomed over his supine form.

"A hybrid shouldn't be so sheltered. So coddled. You've never even scented an alpha have you? Did you even learn what they are? No, I don't imagine so... not with that drunken look you're wearing now. Silly, confused omega. You're not used to scenting? Powerful isn't it?"

She chuckled with amusement as Keith clumsily tried to struggle back upright. Awareness seemed to be tugging at him and he was struggling to claw his was up from the undertow. His glassy eyes darted and he grunted with effort as he struggled to concentrate. She pushed him back down, her hands resting firmly on his chest.

"Shshsh... just rest. You needn't bother yourself. Just relax and I will do all the work, sweet. I know this is your first time. Leave everything to me. Focus on my hands. See, that's nice isn't it? Right here."

Shiro heard himself scream in rage as the stranger began petting Keith over his clothing. Her hands disappeared beneath his tunic. Keith gave a loud shriek, back arching as she began pinching and tugging at his chest.

"Yes, sensitive. Just like a good omega should be. Is this sore? You are definitely heating-your first time. Omegas are never this sensitive unless they're ripe."

Moments later, Keith was laid out naked and trembling. His eyes were wide and dilated, tears leaking out of the corners. The scent of the stranger still seemed to hold a thrall of dominance over him. Shiro knew he was watching the Galra equivalent of a date rape. The scent had stolen Keith's strength and rebellion but not his terror. Keith was being roofied by nothing more than a simple odor and he was powerless to stop it.

"So so pretty. I've never seen a hybrid like you. I knew when I first saw you in the barracks that I wanted you. You're a delicacy. Nothing else compared."

The stranger began peeling off her tight tunic. She grinned down at Keith once she was fully bare. "What do you think of your alpha? Strong? Yes, I'm strong and I'll take care of you every single quintant once your mine."

She wiggled out of her pants and stood, slowly turning in a show of proud display.

Shiro felt his eyes bulge disbelievingly at the sight. She was definitely female... right up until his eyes reached her hips. There was nothing female there.

Shiro's mind was spun sickly. Ulaz's past explanation of Galra hermaphroditism whispered in his memories, but the words felt decisively useless now. What good did they do him? What good could it do Keith.

"You're so small. I fear I might harm you so I'll go very slowly. I'll prepare you all night if necessary. I will have you by morning though. I'll have you as many times as I please." She straddled Keith and petted his forehead. She leaned in for a deep kiss. When she sat back up, her eyes were dark and flashing with lust. She rolled Keith over without preamble and went to work inspecting his lower body. She seemed deaf to the growing whines and sobs.

"Stooop... N-No!" Keith gasped. He flung his arms out in a desperate attempt to crawl away, but he was trapped under her iron grip.

"Shshsh, lay still. Will you be my good omega or should I punish you first?" A loud slap rang out as she struck him hard across the cheeks. "I'll spank you as many times as needed," she growled. "Until you learn your place. Let me inspect my new toy."

It felt like hours later, but Shiro had lost all concept of time. He knelt hunched on his hands and knees heaving violently. He was no longer watching, but it was no longer necessary. Keith's cries and pleas rang in his ears and seared themselves into his memory. He'd never forget what he'd just witnessed. He'd never forget those hellish sounds.

"Good kit... so full now. Full of my seed."

She sighed breathily.

Shiro clamped his eyes shut and tried desperately to block out the hallow slap of skin on skin.

"Full of my kits. You've caught my seed. Your scent's already changing. They'll all smell what happened to you. They'll know. Mine!"

* * *

Pidge watched Shiro stiffly march down the hallway. His face was carefully blank and sheet-white. His eyes were red-rimmed with grief but his cheeks were dry.

Keith lay curled in his arms, Shiro's jacket carefully tucked over him. His eyes were closed and his tear-stained face lax with sleep.

"Shiro?" she pressed hesitantly.

He looked down at her as though noticing her for the first time. He gave a wane smile that didn't quite reach his haunted eyes.

"He's okay. He's okay now," he murmured. He sounded more like he was reassuring himself, not her. "He's just tired."

"He had another panic attack didn't he?" Lance asked, his brow scrunched in concern. He jammed his hands into his coat pocket and stared hard at the floor.

"Yes, he was panicking. He's calmed down now, though. He just needs some time," Shiro murmured.

"H-how did you get him to calm down?" Pidge pressed. Something wasn't sitting right with her. Something was missing.

"I didn't do much. We talked for awhile and I helped him with his breathing." His voice trailed off and he looked conflicted over whether he should say more. "He had Red show me some things. Some memories he wanted to share..."

"Wait? Like a mind-meld? Are we talking about the thing Spock does?" Hunk's voice teetered precipitously between amazed and terrified, amazed at the magic the lions could work. Terrified at what Shiro had actually seen and why it'd left him so stricken.

"Exactly like Vulcans," Shiro murmured with a humorless chuckle. He treated them to a meaningful stare. "I won't tell you all the details because I'm not sure how much Keith wants to share. He showed me what happened-how he got pregnant. That's all I'll say on the matter."

"It-it really wasn't his choice was it?" Lance whispered. His eyes were shiny with tears he refused to acknowledge. Shiro gave a jerky nod.

"He wasn't given a choice. They forced him to participate in something he had no desire to."

"Where are they? You saw who they are! We can find him. Kolivan will butcher them! _I'll_ butcher them!"

Pidge's face was beat-red with anger. She had dropped her voice to a deadly whisper out of fear of waking Keith.

"We can't get to her now. She was sent deep undercover at a Galran base to infiltrate and spy. We can't kill her." Shiro's voice had gone oddly blank as though he was afraid to share the enormity of emotion that really filled it.

"Wait? She?!"

Hunk's voice was too loud. Keith stirred slightly in Shiro's arms. He cradled him closer and shook his head in warning.

"I'm putting him to bed. I want Ulaz to check on him."

Don't follow me.

The unspoken order hung over the three paladins as they watched Shiro march off with Keith's limp figure.

* * *

Keith's world was fuzzy and warm. He blinked muzzily and tried to place his surroundings. Fluffy blankets and pillows hemmed him in gently. He sighed and reached to rub his throbbing head. He sniffed stuffily and rubbed his sore eyes. Absently, he reached down to feel for his stomach. He let his hands linger on the large hump. The kits were safe. He could sense them.

He tried to sit up only to realize he was trapped. Biting back a pang of panic, he quickly reassessed his surroundings as he snapped into alert. A large tail was curled about his waist protectively. He peered over his shoulder to find Regris' sleeping features staring back at him. The Galran was cradling him to his chest like a child's stuffed animal. Keith felt the soft, snore-like purrs rumble deep within the massive chest.

Keith smirked wanly and tried to untangle himself. He needed to pee. Now! He'd noticed the growing urgency that assaulted him over the past few weeks. Matt had explained that the kits were pressing on his bladder as they grew larger. There wasn't enough room for them to spread out without stepping on an organ or two in the process.

Keith managed to extract himself from Regris' embrace. He began crawling from his nest only to find Pidge sleeping just outside the boundary on a small sleeping bag. He jerked back and narrowly avoided trampling her.

The sudden movement was enough to wake her. She rolled over sleepily and looked up at him with a soft smile.

"Hey, Space Cat."

"What are you doing?" Keith whispered. He couldn't afford to wake Regris. Past experiences in their Blade barracks warned him of the impending doom that would occur should he ever wake the sleeping Galra again.

"Space slumber party. Didn't you get the memo?"

"Slumber party?" Keith smiled and shook his head. Pidge's antic never failed to amaze him.

"Hot coco train!" Hunk's ridiculous stage whisper made Keith jump. He shot him a warning look and motioned frantically at Regris. The Galran was shifting restlessly in his sleep.

"Do you want marshmallows?" Hunk whispered. He plopped down beside Keith and Pidge and began passing out steaming mugs.

Silently, Keith sipped at the rich drink and savored the creamy chocolate. His mind was still playing catch-up. He struggled not to wince at the caustic memories dancing through his brain.

 _The Coalition Dinner._

 _The ambassador._

 _Red._

 _Shiro._

 _Gemmae._

Keith couldn't swallow past the growing lump in his throat. He set his mug down and gave a watery smile at the concerned gazes resting on him. Both Hunk and Pidge were staring blatantly at him over the rim of their mugs. Assessing. Questioning.

"I-I'm okay now. Better anyway at least," Keith tried. "I feel better. I told Shiro."

"He said you did-not that he told us what you said. Don't worry. He's keeping your secret!" Hunk assured him.

Keith gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Honestly... If he tells you guys, then fine. I-I should have already trusted you enough to say what happened. I shouldn't be keeping secrets from you."

"We all have times when we need to keep secrets," Pidge whispered, eyes carefully averted. Keith regarded her intently. Coming from her, those words held more meaning than he could ever describe.

"It's okay not to share everything all the time. Shiro knows now. You don't have to carry it all by yourself anymore. You've got him. That's what matters."

They turned at the new voice in the room. Lance stood in the doorway with a packed tray. He smiled gently and eased his way down between Keith and Hunk.

Keith eyed the tray suspiciously. A curious assortment of baggies, bowls, and towels lay cluttered on the tray. Lance saw him staring and gave him a playful wink. "I thought if you were feeling better... spa day? You deserve some TLC."

Keith just stared. What did that even mean? Spa?

"You're not putting that foo-foo crap on my face!" Pidge hissed.

"Wait, is that my faux cucumber salad dressing?"

"No... maybe," Lance finally amended. Hunk glared darkly and Lance rushed to explain. "What can I say? It works better on skin than it does on salads. It's an awesome moisturizer! I'm not kidding!"

There was a sudden rumble behind them. The group froze and watched the slumbering giant slowly rise from the nest. Regris stared down darkly at them with sleep-addled eyes.

"Way. To. Go," Keith intoned darkly. "You're in for it."

"Smells... what is that sweet smell?" Regris growled. He slithered over and peered at the tray of hot chocolates suspiciously. Hunk silently extended the tray with a desperate smile.

"Marshmallows?"

"What are these marsh-malls?"

They watched in tense anticipation as he popped one into his mouth. He didn't chew. He tucked it into his cheek and extended a large paw. "Another," he demanded.

Hunk passed him the entire bag. It was only when every single marshmallow lay carefully tucked into his cheeks did Regris finally smile. There was a shared sigh of relief all around.

The Galran's cheeks bulged comically in a weird parody of chipmunk.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Pidge asked, extending a mug politely. She felt as though she was offering a placating sacrifice to an offended god. Regris accepted the mug and slurped loudly.

Between the loud slurps and the sight of the tiny mug in his mammoth paws, Keith finally lost it. He doubled over and gasped with laughter. Regris eyes him huffily and continued nursing his mug, the tiny item dwarfed in his massive, threatening claws. The other quickly joined Keith's laughter. They had no idea just how hilarious the situation really was. They'd never seen the monstrous creature Regris morphed into whenever he was woken up without permission.

Keith appreciated their laughter, though. It wasn't just Regris. It wasn't even the Hunk's hot coco, Pidge's sleep-over, or Lance's spa day that was making him so weirdly giddy.

For the first time since he'd arrived back at the Castle, he felt as though he could breath again.

* * *

Galra made interesting house-guests to say the least.

Lance knew he was gawking unashamedly, but he didn't really care. He was far too interested in the brazen show of domesticity playing out before him. The pair of Blades that had arrived with Kolivan for the Coalition dinner were currently sitting cross-legged at the center of the common room. The smaller sat contentedly between the crossed legs of the larger, head resting back against their chest in utter contentment. Lance could hear the energetic purring even from where he sat on the other side of the room.

The larger Blade appeared slightly more masculine with a strong, chiseled jaw and broad, well-muscled shoulders. However, the smaller Blade was more delicate with an almost feminine curve to their lips and slight roundness to their chest and hips. To be honest Lance couldn't slap a definite male/female label on either one. Ulaz hadn't been lying about Galra hermaphroditism.

The Blades seemed to blend into the Castle's social sphere with an odd level of ease. To solidify the tentative peace, both Allura and Shiro had rather forcefully announced in a private, Voltron-only meeting that they wanted it to stay that way. For Keith's sake at the very least.

Lance's interest piqued as he watched the larger Blade member begin unraveling the long complicated web of braids trailing down his partner's back. Their large, menacing claws suddenly became gentle and painstaking in their movements as he gingerly ran his fingers through the wavy pink hair. He paused every now and then to carefully untangle any snarls or knots that countered his touch. The smaller Galra's purring grew even louder and a sleepy smile bloomed on their face.

Keith walked into the room and Lance jerked up with a guilty smirk. He felt like a kid that had gotten caught with a fistful of contraband cookies. Thankfully, Keith didn't seem to notice or care about his voyeuristic tendencies. Lance watched him nonchalantly walked over to the pair of Glara and plop down in front of the smaller one with a chirp of greeting. Wait, Keith could chirp?That was new. How long had he been able to make that sound?! Lance felt his eyes bug out slightly in susprise. When had Keith learned to make Galra noises?!

The smaller Galra answered Keith's greeting with an excited chuff and promptly started running their hands through Keith's scraggly mullet, rubbing gently at his large, twitching ears.

Keith looked up and gave Lance a sheepish smile, tell-tale pink staining his lavender cheeks darker.

"Grooming," he muttered. "Galra fur gets snarly and gross without it."

Lance felt a smile break out across his face. So Galra believed in self-care routines. Oh, yeah, he could so get used to this! And everyone thought he was weird for enjoying personal TLC! No one had any right to ever bash his spa days ever again!

Lance grinned broadly at the Galra grooming train stretched out in front of him. All three looked decidedly lulled and dozy with relaxation as they all went to work taming each other's fur. A tiny pin-prick of jealously hit Lance's gut at the show of familiarity and tenderness. This was more than casual teammate bonding. Keith was having Space Cat family time-blood relation or not. His pangs of sour jealously turned ever so slightly caustic. He'd never felt like an intruder before.

What was his family doing back home on earth? Movie night? Bowling. Another egg fight in the backyard? Lance's gut did a flip-flop. Exactly how long had it been since he'd seen his Mama? Did his siblings even notice he was gone or were they just grateful for the extra Pop tarts he was no longer hogging?

"I apologize for interrupting. May I please borrow Keith for a few ticks?" Allura's smooth, elegant voice cut through the dark clouds looming in Lance's mind. He jerked up and stared. She was standing expectantly in the doorway with an odd smile he couldn't quite place. Keith was staring over his shoulder at her, eyes slightly narrowed in a blend of poorly-concealed suspicion and anxiety. A hand rested protectively on the apex of his stomach. The largest Blade gave an unmistakable growl and promptly tightened his grip, first on the smaller blade in front of him who then grabbed Keith in an exaggerated bear-hug. Keith huffed in light amusement at the blatant show of over-protectiveness. He grinned reassuringly at both of them. "I'll be back. Gerid, It's okay," he promised the growling Blade. The bulky Galra frowned in displeasure but finally gave a reluctant nod.

"You'll miss grooming!" the smaller Blade whined, tightening their bear hug.

"Elli, Do me a favor... Lance has never been groomed before. He doesn't he know how to take care of his hair. Can you help him. He could use it."

Lance was too busy squawking in protest at the ridiculous lie to notice the eager grin stealing over Elli's face. The petite blade member was suddenly grabbing him about the waist and hauling him over like a moody toddler. Lance abruptly realized Elli wasn't all that small, not compared to a human anyway. Lance found himself securely trapped between their lean thighs as they held him close and still in their lap. Claws stroked through his hair, leaving neat rows as they searched for signs of knots or debris.

"Keith!" Lance screeched. He was struggling wildly to free himself from Elli's iron grip, but to no avail.

Keith was already marching off with Allura. Lance heard the unmistakable huffs of laughter from both of them.

"Traitor," he muttered darkly.

"Hush! Too loud. Enjoy and relax! Your head-fur is indeed messy. I will groom you every day if I must. This is unacceptable."

* * *

"I'm not certain I approve of this deception, Shiro. Keith will be more riled than an Antifeger Hoolier with grass in their shnozzle when he finds out." Coran was tugging anxiously at his mustache, casting pained looks at the Castleship's monitor screens.

"He won't find out. He'll be busy with Allura all afternoon."

"The princess doesn't know of your plan either I gather," Coran pressed, eyes narrowed.

Shiro shook his head and fixed his gaze harder on the screens to hide his guilt. "How's those maps coming, Pidge. Can you match up the coordinates?"

"Yeah, the anonymous tipster was spot-on with the location. It matches up perfectly. There's a cave just like they said-miles of underground caverns in fact. It'd be the perfect place to hide the core."

Pidge hesitated. Shiro watched a cycle of turmoil and excitement filter across her face, broadcasting just how conflicted she felt about his scheme. Shortly after the catastrophic Coalition dinner, an anonymous message had arrived on the Castle's communication systems with a specific set of coordinates and the promise that they'd find the stolen nuclear core if they followed them.

As suspicious as it undoubtedly was, Shiro found himself unable to disregard the possibility of the tip being solid. The necessity of retrieving the core was too high. To ignore any possible help, regardless of how shady it seemed would be a waste.

"Can you pick up any sign of radioactivity?" Matt pressed. "If the core's really there, it should be giving off trace markers."

"Not exactly, but if I'm reading this right, the cave's mineral composition can act as radioactive shielding. The minerals can absorb radiation!" Hunk's voice was bouncing with excitement. "Do you realize how cool this is! On earth they were still studying radioactive absorption! They'd only found a few natural substances that could do this and it was all still highly theoretical-"

"Hunk, calm down," Shiro interrupted. "We need to focus. So there's a chance that the core's inside?"

"Well, yeah, there's a huge chance. If Lotor knows about the cave's mineral composition than he knows this is the best place to hide it. There'd be no chance of any scanners picking up the tracers. No one would look here unless they were specifically searching-kinda like we are."

Shiro nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, I'm going down planet-side to take a look around. Stay here and keep Keith busy."

"Number One-"

Shiro silenced Coran with a look.

"Keith feels responsible for the core being stolen. The Coalition is blaming him. He shouldn't have to feel guilty about it. The sooner we get it back, the sooner the Coalition calms down and we rebuild our trust."

"I'm coming too," Matt chimed in. Shiro looked ready to argue, but Matt's calm, even glare beat him to it. "You need a scientist. Someone that can handle the core if you do find it. I'm not watching you fry to a crisp with radiation burns if that core is uncontained."

"Fine. Let's head to Black. We'll be back as soon as we find something. If the core isn't easily accessible, we'll pull back to plan before going back in."

"Shiro!" Pidge finally burst out. "What if this whole thing's a trap? Sorry, but our little mystery message isn't doing it for me. I don't like our intel-at least not until I know who our secret admirer is."

Shiro heaved a quiet, weary sigh. "I don't trust it either, but I have enough experience to know that sometimes you can't afford to look a gift horse in the mouth. We'll use whatever part of this intel we can, but we stay vigilant."

* * *

 **A/N: Shiro... my boy...abort!**


End file.
